For your eyes only (or so wished the producers of 1982's Oscar telecast)

White Hot Mess Alert! Wow, remember the days when the Academy Awards had horribly entertaining musical numbers sometimes choreographed by Debbie Allen? Yes, good times.
But like all good things wonderfully cheese, the over-produced musical numbers have gone moldy, been discarded, and instead we get treated to gems like Beyonce singing all 5 nominees at 2005's Oscars (cute in theory, but thankfully we were too distracted wondering how B's weave went from blowout to updo to ponytail in between each song).
From 1982's Oscars comes this way over the top slice of cheesecake: Sheena "Sugar Walls" Easton performing "For Your Eyes Only" from the James Bond flick of the same name. I'm not sure which is my favorite part, but watching the whole thing reminds me of long cherished trips to Universal Studios in the 1980s. I mean, it's like I'm right there on the set of Battlestar Galactica!

Thanks to Entertainment Weekly for the tip.

Telenovelamazing!

Ugly Betty just got so freakin' fantastic it almost makes you want to cut your own bangs. Fresh off a double doozy win at the Golden Globes (Best Comedy Series and Best Comedy Actress for America Ferrera), Betty had much to prove on its first showing of the new year. And boy did the ugly come out flying. Viewers were quickly reminded of the key story plots that have been building since the pilot. Perhaps the best "i didn't see that coming" moment of the season occurred in classic cliffhanger style. The unveiling of the mysterious bandaged woman turned out to be ... (Spoiler Alert!) Alexis "Don't Call me Alex" Meade, the post-operative transsexual brother of Daniel Meade, EIC of Mode, and thought to be very, very dead from a freak skiing accident. Telanovelamazing!
Fortunately, Betty never takes itself too seriously, so this plot twist really works. And it doesn't hurt that the former Alex Meade has been cast as the former Mrs. John Stamos, Rebecca Romijn. Upgrade!

Is Milo the new Felicity?

NBC's Heroes is hands down the cult hit of the season. Much of that credit has to do with Milo Ventimiglia's story arc and his involvement with that whole "Save the Cheerleader, Save the World" business.
But with Heroes doing so well this season, one must ask, how much of its success is due to Milo's hair?




Just look at it and its swoopy goodness in all its glory. Look at the height those bangs get! Even Ken Paves tells Jessica Simpson, "Girl, I can get your hair as big as Texas, but it ain't gonna be Milo." That's right, "Milo" is now an adjective describing bang-itude.
But what if Milo cut. off. his. hair? Would the cheerleader climb her last pyramid and croak, thus ending the world? You never know, Milo/Peter Petrelli could have a bad day, plagiarizing a paper, choosing between Ben and Noel, and all of a sudden, SNIP!
The Peacock Network should seriously call in their lawyers to put a non-shears clause in Milo's contract, lest the ratings drop.

[Heroes, $Free, Mondays on NBC].

Thanks to Towleroad for the pics above (also in this month's Flaunt magazine).

Rock steady

I heart 30 Rock. Here's a reason why.

[30 Rock, $Free, Thursdays @ 930PM on NBC].

X-box

Last night's Saturday Night Live hosted by Justin Timberlake was easily the funniest of the year. Admittedly, that's not that difficult. But, it was back with a vengeance with at least 5 skits which garned my audible laugh. The rest of the 1.5 hour, I fastforwarded.
Andy Samberg's Digital Shorts are consistently the most hilarious thing going for the show, and it's a miracle, because he has a penis. SNL's ladies have ruled that show like it's the longest run of The Vagina Monologues. Not that we mind. We heart Amy Poehler.
Here's Samberg and Timberlake in "C*ck in a Box." Watch it, it's funny. And be warned about what Google thinks are appropriate ad content to this entry...

[Saturday Night Live, $Free, Saturdays @ 1130PM on NBC].

Get your grub on.

If you think porn is just for sex, think again. There's plenty of other salacious media out there for all kinds of things -- home decor, cars, hunting, powerboating. If something gets your rocks off, there's a magazine at the Barnes&Noble waiting for you. For everyday foodies, there's Everyday Food, published by none other than Martha Stewart.
Martha's a really dirty girl. The photography in all her titles is totally porntastic: everything is obscenely delicious, shiny, glistening, extra steamy, full frontal and meticulously produced. Not one freakin' sugar crystal on that Chocolate Tube Bundt on the covershot is awry and I want to impress you by putting it in my mouth. Whole. Oh yeah, just like that. Don't stop.
But here's where it gets amateur: allegedly, we can make all this stuff ourselves. Now that ain't like porn at all. I have yet to answer the door for a special pizza delivery or reprimanded for naughty behavior in a jacuzzi. But upon reading, you soon realize it is like porn. Because I don't have any of the ingredients or equipment to make a damn cake in my apartment. Fresh vanilla pods? Kitchen aid stand alone mixer? Milk (like from a cow)? If I did, don't you think I'd be making a chocolate bundt cake like ALL THE TIME?
Luckily I have this magazine to get me through until I get bundt caked again.

[Everyday Food magazine, $2.95 on newsstands (www.marthastewart.com/everydayfood).]

time goes by...

It may not be the fanciest or most blinged out watch, but Seiko's utilitarian friendly new Coutura World Time Alarm watch is certainly very chic.
Fitted with a dial ring that tells the time in posh locales like Rio, Dubai and Paris without having to readjust your watch, this Seiko is a jetsetter's dream.
Now you don't have to worry if Harvey Nichols is open at 6pm New York time.

[Seiko Coutura World Time Alarm Watch, about $400, (www.seiko.com)]

It's in the bag

Yes, I have a thing for the manbag. It happens when one must be constantly entertained/distracted on the city street. Between two communication devices (a mobile and a Sidekick), an iPod, a magazine and some kind of candy, I've got a ton of junk to carry. And this season's slim fitting pants don't offer much in pocket space.

This season, I'm obsessed with this series of bags from quirky brit Paul Smith. The trompe l'oiel effect (it's coated canvas kids, not leather) means you won't have to worry about inopportune scratches or nicks on otherwise pristine skins bags.

The best of the lot is the weekender bag (not pictured). Perfect for lugging around your cashmere sweater and APC jeans for a quickie holiday jaunt.

[Trompe L'oeil bags by Paul Smith, Prices vary, (www.paulsmith.co.uk)]

E Coli is the new mastercleanse, which was the new zone, which was the new atkins

E Coli is having the Best Year Ever. It's EVERYWHERE. On the news. In your salad. Hanging out at Taco Bell.
E Coli is like the Tom Cruise of opportunistic bacterial infection world. It seeks you out, sucks the life from you, and leaves you like a thousand times skinnier (ahem, Nicole Kidman. And Katie, You In Danger, Girl.)
And like a Tom Cruise movie, you go in unwittingly, thinking you'll enjoy a little cinema, and leave thinking, "I really could have done without that." Isn't that how you feel after eating a chalupa from Taco Bell?
And like Tom's svengali act on Nicki Kidman, E Coli totally upgrades your profile. Taco Bell used to just give you an upset stomach and maybe the runs. Now it gives you a flat out condition: Hemolytic Uremic Syndrome or even Thrombotic Thrombocytopenic Purpura. Taco Bell totally got promoted.

[E Coli, $free. Coming to a processed bag of salad greens or baby carrots near you.]

Last Christmas, I gave you my heart. This year, to save me from tears...

Target has posted a stocking full of gift suggestions for everyone in your life. There's a list for your brother, your officemate, even your mailman! And in The Fabulous Life of Being Us, there's even an offering from St. Nick for your Stylist. Naturally, I'm intrigued as to what Santa's going to be bringing me this yule, and apparently, I've been naughty...or is it too nice?

Chocolates (for emotional eating): Check. Toffee Popcorn (as an intermezzo between emotional chocolate binges): Check. Multidirectional waterproof personal massager (will come in handy when New Year's Eve kiss scenario doesn't pan out and can still bring in the new year with a bang): Check.

Thanks for the bleak Christmas, Target. Of course, I'll be enjoying all these yuletide treats alone, turning a lamp on and off while uttering "I won't be ignored!" with Mariah Carey's "All I Want for Christmas is You" on a loop. But Target Claus, would it have killed ya to put some cheese fries on the list? Sometimes I get hungry after personal massaging.

[Target's "Stylist Giftlist" (www.target.com).]

Hot Cruz Buns

I saw this movie two months ago while flying transatlantic on Virgin (an Everyday Luxe preferred airline!), and it was a true pleasure.
Set in present day sleepytown Spain, Volver deals with a myriad of heavy topics like incest, murder, reincarnation, prostitution, and the ever refreshing plain ol’ bein’ po’ (that’s “poor” for the rest of y’all). And this being Pedro Almoldovar, it’s always about the ladies and how they deal with all the crap that men and society throws at them. Pedro's damas always work hard for the money, don't they?
Penelope Cruz is a revelation, and so gorgeous its painful. Reports say Almoldovar had Penny pad her ass to make her more believable as a down and out dumpy woman. Nice try. Pedro loves a tight facial close up, and Ms. Cruz is pore-free. So instead, Penny has to rely on her acting chops. Look for her name come awards season.

[“Volver” in select theaters now.]

You Must Not Know 'Bout Me

Ok, so the last Beyonce singles have crashed and burned. Let's face it -- when you're the artist who released the still infectious "Crazy in Love" (like 3 summers ago), it's pretty much gonna be downhill from there. We still love you, B, but apparently only as a remix. Ring the Alarm? Angry. Ring the Alarm Freemason's Dance Remix? Angry but smokin', like Angelina dealing with third world debt.
But La Knowles's latest single, Irreplaceable, is the ballad we've been waiting for from her sophomore album. It taps into all of Her Bootyliciousness's go-to songwriting trappings: Woman Done Wrong (Bills Bills Bills), Powerful Warrior Woman (Independent Woman Part 1), Woman with alot of shoes (every damn song with Beyonce singing lead).
But please listen to the entire song. By title alone, you'd think it was a love ballad. It's actually a break up song. So please, listen. Interpret. Reflect. Or else you'll be like my sister's junior prom committee who chose "Forever Young" as their theme. Nothing says prom like a little ditty about teen suicide.

[“Irreplaceable” by Beyonce, $.99 (www.apple.com/itunes).]

If it ain't Baroque...

Dolce & Gabbana's latest fall ads are simply my favorite of the season. Though the clothes themselves read costume-y to me with their overtly Napoleonic references, I nonetheless adore the art direction here. It's neoclassical, baroque and, if you will, a lil' bit punk with their subversive and humorous murder mystery subplot.
Maybe Stefano and Domenico were reading Variety when designing this fall collection, since everything "Dangerous Liaisions" is huge in the Zeitgeist -- Kirsten Dunst in Sofia Coppola's film "Marie Antoinette" made the cover of September's Vogue for goodness sakes! -- but never count the boys out for throwing in a naked model here or there. Heroic nude? Non. Gratuitous? OUI!

[Dolce & Gabbana Fall 2006 Campaign, (dolcegabbana.it)].

Like a Virgin

Like Madonna, I've fallen in love with all things British. Unlike Madonna, I have yet to adopt a fake accent and pretend I'm to the manor born (though that issue of last year's Vogue begs to differ). With the Metropolitan Museum of Art's upcoming "Anglomania" exhibit, I am more than certain there's another British Invasion a-comin' (if it hasn't already come about a million times already). To get your Brit Pop primer tuned, go take a listen to Virgin Radio UK. It streams directly from your iTunes and gives you a taste of jolly ol' England without leaving your living room.
Of course, there's the requisite shrine built to uber-group Coldplay and poster boy James Blunt (though that backlash is upon us), but since the Brits never want to admit that the sun actually does set on its musical empire, there's also a heavy dose of Beatles in the rotation. Quite curious indeed!
However, the intermittent traffic reports are the highlight here. Instead of Major Deegan, you get to learn all about something called a Junction. Tune in...

[Virgin Radio UK, (virginradio.co.uk), or stream from iTunes: Go to Radio > Top40/Pop > VirginRadioUK].

pen state

There are certain sects of consumer society that are pervasive and adamant about their respective product -- Mac addicts, Vespa riders, Nutella fiends, Swiffer maniacs. Add Sharpie to that list, as I am completely obsessed with the permanent marker phenom. The new Sharpie Retractable is a Sharpie lover's dream come true. No cap to lose, a clip to hold the marker in the spine of your spiral notebook or back jeans pocket, and a variety of vibrant colors that make this Benetton reference possible.

[Sharpie Retactable Fine Point Markers, about $13 for an 8-pack (staples.com)].

mile high club

With this season of Desperate Housewives seeming, well, more desperate than last year, something else had to supplant my brainless Sunday night TV fix. Flying in from the BBC is Mile High, a trifle of a show that's not exactly Shakespeare, but nonetheless enjoyably watchable.
Set at a bargain London-based airline (for you stateside folk, think JetBlue), the show follows the ins-and-outs of the randy flight crew. There's gorgeous Lehann (with a secret baby boy at her mum's house), the not gay Jason (who knew?) and the stewardess who looks like Jewel. There's all pretty promiscuous, and, as we are reminded each episode, low-waged, so it's like a countdown to see which one is going to become a hooker.

[Mile High, BBC America (check local listings)].

snow job

The most attractive attribute I can think of is a person's passion for what they do everyday, whether that passion is their vocation or hobby. Illustrator Robert Sabuda definitely exudes this quality, at least from what I've seen from his recurring Today show appearances (wherein Katie and Matt pelt Sabuda with so many compliments that you almost wish Al "only-cracks-himself-up" Roker was conducting the interview).
It's overly simplistic to call his creations pop-up books, since they are beyond the well-worn variety of our youths. Just ooh and aah for yourself at Sabuda's latest, "Winter's Tale" (The imagination! The artistry! The magic!). And for once, admire a moose other than the one embroidered on the upper pec of your hottie's Abercrombie muscle fit tee.

["Winter's Tale" by Robert Sabuda, about $18 (amazon.com)].

what the Luxe?

OK. This is maybe the weirdest thing I've read all week long. A woman in New Mexico has a restraning order against David Letterman because he allegedly "has been using code words, gestures and "eye expressions" for more than 10 years to convey his desire to marry her and train her as his cohost." You simply can't pay for this kind of crazy.

["Letterman Restrained by Tormented Fan"
from E!Online.]

card shark

On a recent photoshoot, I was joyfully reminded of Charles and Ray Eames' iconic House of Cards. The prop stylist had set out a deck to help create an ambience (a Richard Meier-like skyscraper of open cubes), but it wasn't long before I started masterminding my own designs. Of course, my house boasts a cantilevered car port and intimate lighting schemes aided by strategically placed tea lights. But that's just me .

I'm sure for all you "Keepin' Up with The Jonses" out there, you can buy two sets and piece together a McMansion.

[House of Cards, about $30 (www.momastore.org)].

guilty pleasure of the week

The Pussycat Dolls had me at this summer's cheese anthem, "Don't Cha." But now they're on the airwaves with their latest ballad, "Stickwitu." Now I normally don't approve of any song wherein the title amounts to a grammar drive by, but this sweet confection really, well, stickswitu.
And don't get me started on the lyrics and accompaniment -- they're horrid. But the verse,"seems like everyone is breakin up, and throwin their love away," really does makes me say a little prayer for Nick and Jessica. Meanwhile, the rest of the song makes me pine for a couples only skate at the roller rink. Keep up the fluff PCD!

["Stickwitu" by the Pussycat Dolls, $.99 (www.apple.com/itunes)].