This week I re-watched 3 Hepburn movies: Charade, Funny Face and Paris when it sizzles. Even though I had seem all of them quite a few times, she never ceases to amaze me with her flawless elegance and style. So why not dedicate this Sunday Idol post to her?
Why you should love her: She had unusual features that later became the very definition of beauty & elegance; Her style was impeccable; She spoke French with the cutest accent; She could make any sort of character absolutely loveable, whether it was a philosopher turned model or a high-maintenance prostitute who dreamed of marrying a millionaire; She could speak French, English, Spanish, Italian and Dutch, and is seen trying to speak Portuguese in Breakfast at Tiffany’s; She contributed meaningfully to UNICEF; She got 2 Academy Awards, a Golden Globe, 2 Tonys, an Emmy and a Grammy.
For beautiful eyes, look for the good in others; for beautiful lips, speak only words of kindness; and for poise, walk with the knowledge that you are never alone.
Random Fact: She serenaded JFK for his final birthday in 1963, one year after Marilyn Monroe.
How to celebrate her: Learn a foreign language; Shoplift; Get a cat named Cat; Throw a ridiculous and extravagant party filled with people you’ve never met; Go on the hunt for millionaires; Go to Paris (or Rome, or NY); Dress beautifully and elegantly in black, tan and pearls; Eat a bagel; Go to Tiffany’s (when I went there, the elevator guy told me I was lovely and sang It’s Now or Never to me during the whole elevator ride. It was marvellous.); Flirt with everyone; Start a stamp collection; Embrace life; Learn ballet; Help others, volunteer, donate to charity, read to children; Wear Givenchy; Watch any of her films; Read Breakfast at Tiffany’s and Pygmalion; Fall for an older man.
Andy Warhol was born on August 6, 1928 and died of cardiac problems on February 22, 1987. His real name was Andrew Warhola, and he was one of my favourite artists and one of the main names of Pop Art.
I suppose I have a really loose interpretation of “work” because I think that just being alive is so much work at something you don’t always want to do. Being born is like being kidnapped. And then sold into slavery. People are working every minute. The machinery is always going. Even when you sleep.
Why you should love him: His work is simply amazing; He changed the way people look at Campbell’s canned soup; He hung out with the coolest croud, and basically invented the concept of cool we know today; He could see what was behind fame and wealth; Edie Sedgwick; He did volunteer work; He donated almost the entirety of his estate to a foundation dedicated to the “advancement of the visual arts”; He owned The Factory, basically the best place to be in NY at the time; He looked wicked cool; He discovered the Velvet Underground.
But I always say: one’s company, two’s a crowd and three’s a party.
How to celebrate him: Eat Campbell’s tomato soup, a Big Mac and drink Coke; Paint, draw, make something, and preferably listening to music; Film things happening, preferably obscene things; Wear a white wig; Dress in stripes; Channel Edie Sedgwick (I’m obsessed with her); Watch any of his movies; Listen to The Velvet Underground, The Rolling Stones, Aretha Franklin, Blondie, Bob Dylan and Diana Ross; Watch Factory Girl and Absolut Warhola; Go out and be fabulous.
“In the future everyone will be famous for fifteen minutes.” I’m bored with that line. I never use it anymore. My new line is, “In fifteen minutes everybody will be famous.”
Nick Hornby is a 52-years-old English writer, and he’s one of my favourite novelists. I’ve read most of his books, and they’re all pretty much amazing. The style is great, and the stories are catchy and easy to relate to (a man thinking back on his failed relationships, a teenage boy who’s made fun of in school, suicidal tendencies on new year’s eve), so I definitely recommend them to pretty much everyone.
People worry about kids playing with guns, and teenagers watching violent videos; we are scared that some sort of culture of violence will take them over. Nobodies worries about kids listening to thousands – literally thousands – of songs about broken hearts and rejection and pain and misery and loss.
Why you should love him: He makes great references to music, movies, books, football and other pop-culture elements; He has an autistic son, and he donated part of the profits of Speaking with the Angel to a charity for children who suffer from that problem; 4 of his books were made into films (High Fidelity, Fever Pitch, About a boy and An Education) and there’s a 5th one in the making (A long way down); He’s bald and ugly, but totally charming; He’s hilarious when he wants to be, but can be deliciously dramatic when the situation calls for it; His sarcastic and dry sense of humour makes me smile.
Random fact: He’s a hardcore supporter of the english football team Arsenal Football Club, and was featured on The Times list of 50 Worst Famous Football Fans.
How to celebrate him: Make top 5 lists; Write about how certain songs make you feel; Go on crazy book shopping sprees; Attempt to write a book review, then give up and write about why you don’t want to write that book review; Read one of his books; Watch one of his movies (I suggest About a boy, because it features not only the lovely Hugh Grant but also Nicholas Hoult, more famous for his part as Tony in Skins, when he was still a kid); Listen to Patti Smith, Bob Dylan, Santana, Nelly Furtado, Badly Drawn Boy, The Bible and The Avalanches; Watch a football match (bonus points if Arsenal is playing and you scream at the top of your lungs); Donate to a charity and/or volunteer; Sing Joni Mitchell or Carole King, preferably off-key; Spend New Year’s Eve at the top of Topper’s House (but, please, don’t jump); Cry over failed relationships while listening to Neil Young.
It seems to me now that the plain state of being human is dramatic enough for anyone; you don’t need to be a heroin addict or a performance poet to experience extremity. You just have to love someone.
Rome is burning, he said as he poured himself another drink, yet here i am knee deep in a river of pussy. Here it comes, she thought, another self-indulgent whiskey soaked rant about how everything was so fucking different in the past. And all us poor souls born too late to see the Stones at wherever or snort the good coke like they had at studio 54. Well we’d all just missed out on practically everything worth living for. And the worst part was she agreed with him. Here we are, she thought, At the edge of the world, the very edge of western civilization, and all of us are so desperate to feel something, anything, that we keep falling into each other and fucking our way towards the end of days.
Hank Moody is a fictional character, I know. But Californication is one of my favourite shows, and I’m totally in love with him. Not only is he gorgeous and sexy, he’s also funny and an awesome writer with kick-ass style. So this week I’m dedicating my sunday post (although I’m late and it’s already monday) to him.
Why you should love him: He’s drop dead gorgeous, really freaking hot; he’s a writer, and a pretty great one; he’s a great loving dad, and Becca is the cutest (even though she’s sort of a pain in the ass this season); he listens to classic rock; the all-black jeans, biker leather jacket and sunglasses is a great look; he loves women, no matter what, and not just sexually; he’s a bastard, he cheats, he drinks a bit too much, he does drugs, but he’s still completely loveable; he’s brutally honest, and owns up to his screw-ups; he can get into anyone’s pants, and he could totally get into mine if he was actually real; he’s played by David Duchovny, who’s, well, hot; he’s witty, sarcastic and funny; if you’re a writer, you can totally relate to his creative block; his complicated relationship with Karen makes me swoon and believe there’s some hope out there for relationship freaks like me.
Dear Karen,
If you’re reading this, it means I actually worked up the courage to mail it. So, good for me. You don’t know me very well but if you get me started I have a tendency to go on and on about how hard the writing is for me, but this, this is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to write. There’s no easy way to say this, so I’ll just say it. I met someone. It was an accident. I wasn’t looking for it. I wasn’t on the make. It was a perfect storm. She said one thing. I said another. Next thing I knew, I wanted to spend the rest of my life in the middle of that conversation. Now there’s this feeling in my gut, she might be the one. She’s completely nuts in a way that makes me smile; highly neurotic. A great deal of maintenance required. She is you, Karen. That’s the good news. The bad is that I don’t know how to be with you right now. And it scares the shit out of me. Because if I’m not with you right now, I have this feeling we’ll get lost out there. It’s a big, bad world full of twists and turns, and people have a way of blinking and missing the moment, the moment that could’ve changed everything. I don’t know what’s going on with us, and I can’t tell you why you should waste a leap of faith on the likes of me but, damn, you smell good, like home. And you make excellent coffee. That’s got to count for something, right? Call me.
Unfaithfully yours,
Hank Moody
Random fact: You can actually buy God hates us all, Hank’s book, on Amazon. I’m dying to read it.
How to celebrate him: Wear only black for the whole day; Have a whole lot of sex; Talk about sex; Sit down in front of a typewriter, have a drink and write nonstop about your life, preferably including swear words, self-loathing and detailed kinky sexual experiences; watch Californication; read God hates us all; go to New York; make sarcastic and sexually-explicit jokes; flirt with basically every vaguely interesting person you meet; make fun of every person you don’t flirt with.
Miss Pamela (aka Pamela Des Barres or Pamela Miller) is a rocker girl, music muse and supergroupie. She dated Mick Jagger, Keith Moon, Jim Morrison and Jimmy Page, to name a few, and hung out with all the cool music folks from the 60s and 70s. She is my greatest life and style inspiration, and that’s why she’s here at Sunday Idols.
Why you should love her: Have I mentioned she dated Mick Jagger? Yeah, I thought so.; She was free-spirited and did whatever she wanted to do. She once spent the night waiting outside the house The Beatles were staying, just to catch a glimpse of John leaving on their limo.; She got everything she could ever want: she met some of The Beatles, and she dated the guys she dreamed of dating when she was just a high school girl.; Her fashion sense was incredible. She would mix beautiful gowns with bracelets from the $1 shop, and look absolutely fabulous; She was part of Frank Zappa’s girl group The GTOs, who were all about being revolutionary girls in the music scene; She was one of the world’s first supergroupies; She searched for spirituality all through her life, in multiple ways, and came to very interesting conclusions; She wrote 4 books (I’m with the band, Let’s spend the night together, Rock Bottom and Take another piece of my heart), and the two I read were incredibly amazing. I can’t wait to buy the other two!; She still updates her blog with stories about her 61-year-old rock’n'roll life; She’s a huge fan of Jack White; She’s a breast cancer survivor; She visits James Dean’s grave once a year; She was also stunningly beautiful; Well, you know, she’s just absolutely amazing.
Random Fact: She tried to pursue an acting carreer, and got a part at Frank Zappa’s 200 Motels.
How to celebrate her: Go to a rock concert (bonus points if you can sneak in backstage and actually talk/make friends/sleep with someone in the band); Sleep with a musician; Listen to The Who, The Rolling Stones, Elvis Presley, The Beatles, Led Zeppelin, The Doors, The Flying Burrito Brothers, Frank Zappa & The Mothers of invention, The GTOs, Jimi Hendrix Experience, Gram Parsons, The White Stripes, The Dead Wheather and basically anything rock’n'roll; Draw hearts and/or stars on your face and go out; Dance, dance, dance; Write a book (or a chapter, or a short story) about your life, specially the juicy details; Dress up in crazy ways, go out and meet your friends; Call all your girl friends “Miss” and all your guy friends “Mr.”; Watch some rock’n'roll documentaries, such as Groupies,Plaster Caster or Mayor of the Sunset Strip; Watch James Dean’s movies; Hang out with your friends, listen to great music, write in your journals and gossip about boys; Make a list of people you’d like to meet/hang out with/make out with. Then try to make it happen; Tip: Her birthday is September 9th.
When you gotta go out and make a movie to pay for the kid’s private school and for the three ex-wives, don’t talk to me about your artistry. It’s their job. It’s not my job. It’s my calling.
Quentin Tarantino is one of my favourite film-makers of all time (right next to Woody Allen, Tim Burton and a couple more), and I have just recently watched his latest movie, Inglorious Basterds. Let me tell you: it kicks ass. Not only it’s a great movie, but it basically chose for me who the first Sunday Idol would be.
Why you should love him: He mixes all sorts of movie genres (western, war, noir) in a bucket full of gross fake blood; He has been romantically involved with Sofia Coppola, who is also a great director (and, come on, they’re such a cute couple!); his dialogues are completely awesome, specially the one about superheroes in Kill Bill: Vol. 2; his muse is beautiful, smart and awkward looking Uma Thurman; he often plays smaller roles in his movies, like Pulp Fiction and Reservoir Dogs; he directed the best episode of CSI ever; he’s just f*cking brilliant!
Random fact: Nirvana thanked him in the liner notes of In Utero, and he retributed by thanking the band in the liner notes of the Pulp Fiction soundtrack, alongside with a RIP Kurt message.
How to celebrate him (Gala Darling style): Watch one (or all) of the movies in his Top 20 list; Listen to Fiona Apple; Swear a lot, specially using the f-word; Go out, buy some ketchup and make your own bloody gore movie; Have a huge milkshake and dance like John Travolta; Read some violent pulp-style graphic novels (Sin City is a good place to start); Watch this; Put on a bright yellow jumper and start practicing your martial arts; Seek revenge; Give someone a foot massage; Watch some of his movies, preferably all of them. My favourite one is Pulp Fiction.
