Saturday, September 12, 2009


Been thinking a bit about style lately. Not just because that's my moniker on the blog, but because it reaches so deeply into what matters to me on a personal level, and how the world runs, in general. Not by some stupid designer label, or some fad or fashion..ugh, how pedestrian do we have to get?

No, I'm talking about grace and the way people conduct themselves these days. I having some hard moments with this.

Style does not exist without grace. Nope. Nada. No go.

I once had an idea of starting a web business to help men with their style. You have no idea how many incredibly successful men- as in household name successful- have no idea about how to behave with grace and elegance. They really don't have a clue. Can buy a small country but can't hold a fork or a conversation. Don't know how to treat people with dignity.

Before we get into this one, don't think for a minute I think that this subject has anything to do with one's station in life. Quite the contrary. I've seen gardeners with more grace than the guy who owns Viacom. ( I swear to you, I had to knock that idiot down a few pegs once, but that's another story...)

This all started a few weeks ago when I went to a play called "Legally Blonde." I know, I know, sounds torturous, but the real torture came at intermission. I was standing in line amongst, oh, say, 45 other females- most of them under 15 years old, and with the exception of myself and two others, EVERYONE was on their cell phone, either yapping or texting. There we were, having a theatre experience in one of the most beautiful pieces of architecture in L.A., and these ninnies and their pathetic Lindsay Lohan mother types were completely checked out, texting. To say I was horrified is the understatement of this year. Was there really anything monumental to report? Honestly?

I live in L.A. I deal with the vulgarities of wannabes everyday. I grit my teeth through the horror of standing next to people yapping into their cell phones in the tiny elevators at Neiman Marcus. I cringe at the Euros haggling, in their gold lame spandex and Helen Keller couldn't miss it make-up and hair- on a regular basis. I don't like bad manners, fake boobs, fake lips, lipo, eyelash extensions, bad facelifts. It's hard to avoid to avoid the painful effects of bimbos and himbos in their SUVs, (always single in their enormous vehicles while taking up two lanes, I might add), with their little pet store purchased puppy mill dogs as accessories, cutting everyone off as they adjust their make up/ check their sunglasses while texting/phoning/driving.  ARRHGGGHHHH!!!!


What has happened to let the other guy go in front of you? Open the door for someone, smile at someone, tell some elderly widow she looks pretty, just because that might be the only nice thing she's heard in years?

I can't figure out the illness of a Sarah Palin, or a Glenn Beck. I can't understand the twisted mess of a heart or psyche that claims to follow Jesus while they are too stingy to share their bounty. Nor can I understand some knob at the movie who thinks that sharing public space does not demand that they follow some sort of decent code of behavior, like shut off your phone, stop editorializing- you are not Rex Reed- and stop frantically checking your emails or texting through the film! Yes, nimrod, the blaring screen is distracting, forget about the ones who actually take's all the same- the entitled "I am more important than anyone else in my space, in fact I am unaware of anyone else in my space" rudeness. Yikes.

Oh, I know, this rant has a long way to go. It's like the Tourette's of blogs.. But I am trying to make a point. These things bother me. We're losing our grace.

I'm just sayin...