First of many I hope to come!
|Every Sunday I get the LA Times. It is the only day of the week we go for, so called, big city newspapers. I'm always laughing at the odd stories they deem newsworthy, so I think I will start devoting my Sunday blogs to little morsels which make me raise an eyebrow.
First up (gawd, so many to choose from), an article by a Times Staff Writer, Robert W. Welkos (in Cannes, France) titled, "Getting on board with the Cannes party plans." His opening paragraph?
"The champagne is on ice. The beer is in cold bottles. The party is under way. And the rich and famous are all on board the gleaming yacht for a party -- wearing house slippers?"
Yes, the Hollywood elite are all in Cannes for the annual Film Festival, and along with them are dozens of incredible private yachts, all who have very, very elite parties. Yawn. Okay, what makes this article somewhat humorous are the rules you are expected to follow while aboard, say a 172 foot yacht with a Capt. and ten crew;
1. No red wine will be served, only white, as red wine spills stain the carpet. Oh, you mean celebs actually "spill" wine? Go on!
2. Guests are required to leave their shoes on the dock, exchanging them for a pair of slippers before coming aboard. He explains, "That's to protect the wood on the deck, the deck is made of teak. The ladies come on with high heels and it is kind of a soft wood, every time they take a step it makes an indentation." So says the high falutin Captain of the yacht. (Ya hear this Tor (47) and CC (18) ? ROTFLMAO)
Well, I don't know about you, but IF I (and I wouldn't) paid some big money for a designer cocktail dress, huge amount of money on my Jimmy Choo's or Manolo Blahnick's stilettos, I'd be one PISSED OFF celeb!! Who in the heck wants to be photographed arriving in a skin-tight, down to the pube's neckline, mini-dress...wearing a pair of Bunny Slippers...or any other kind? The nerve. Why, I would just have to find some other tacky, crowded venue (trust me, I have had the misfortune of being in Cannes during this time of year) where I could have a glass of red wine and my stilettos, at the same time! Who cares if after a few glasses of it I can't walk anyway, I LOOK GOOD! And isn't that the point in Cannes after-all? Smile and wave to the paparazzi!
The second article that also passes for news (coincidentally tying in with the above by virtue of foot-fetish, it seems to me) is headlined:
"Heel and Toe Ecstasy: Giving Pedicures to the Epicures."
This is an article by yet another Times Staffer, Carla Hall. Who assigns these stories?
It is a HALF-A-PAGE article (with photo showing two people, but the Foot takes the center-stage, ugh, and I was eating a breakfast) about....PEDICURES.
We are not talking the usual pedicure here, nooooo, this is a French MAN, Bastien Gonzales (that's really French isn't it...only in LA do you find French-accented pedicurists named Gonzales!). He says, "I'm known in my field because I make corns disappear just by massaging." He says this amidst the gleaming tools of his trade, in a "cozy leopard print alcove" of a certain boutique (in the neighborhood I moved from 17 years ago, before such wondrous things could be found, openly).
HELLOOOOOO, I make corns disappear too, especially on Memorial Day Weekend. I eat those ears of it hot off of my grill, along with hot dogs, hamburgers and even chicken! Mr. Fancy Schmancy. Oui indeed.
The article describes him as, "an attractive, charming 33-year old Frenchman who attends to feet and toenails of clients across the globe".
The guy divides his work between London and Paris. He returns to NY every six weeks. Every six weeks? OMG, does that mean his clients have to wait six weeks for a pedicure??? I had no idea the well heeled had it so rough. He was only in LA for a day, as a courtesy to one of his boutique owning clients, and was kind enough to reduce his fee by $25.00, to just $225.00. OMG again, I missed that once-in-a-lifetime opportunity? I should just go die and be done with it. Oh, but wait, just reading on, in case I should ever snag an appointment when I go to London or Paris, he says, "I won't break an appointment for anyone." WHEW, I feel relieved now.
Slogging through more incredible factoids about this Guru of Toes, I discover more;
a.) Many of his clients fly him in, on private jets, to their homes. (Who the F***??) He says, "You think when people fly me in private jets, they care what the pedicure costs?"
b.) People postpone their vacations to get an appointment. (Hmmm, maybe that detox excuse is passe already. "Sorry, can't come for dinner, I have a pedicure". Oh yeah, that is an improvement.)
c.) He doesn't soak your feet in water. Oh hell no, I love a manicure on stinky feet!
d.) He doesn't apply nail-polish. Oh great, then you are paying for?? Oh right, the "marble dust" he smoothes out ridges with, then buffs them. (One client exclaimed, "OMG", as she looked at her toenails, which looked as glossy as if he had polished them. HUH?)
Well, as the article was so long, it was filled with other fascinating things, which I just refuse to bore you with any further. Self-indulgence, self-absorbed, grandiose people in Hollywood have now shocked me into seeing why Pitt and Jolie fled for Africa.
Time to go take a walk outside on this, a beautiful day that is part of the Memorial Day weekend. I'll be shaking my head, wondering why stuff like this was so important to place in the newspaper. Nada walks away shaking her head, mumbling.
*Note, ~Wind in my Wings~ (52) was the 10,000th viewer yesterday. Thank you so very much!