On Delaware’s witches … the relapsed Miss Lohan … and Marilyn’s undies.
Fun! Fun! Fun! I do mean Christine O’Donnell, the GOP candidate for Delaware’s Senate seat.
She is the spawn of Sarah Palin, but like Eve Harrington, she is younger, fresher, and – who knows? – perhaps more ambitious! O’Donnell is prettily plump to Sarah’s toned runner’s physique. She has a softer voice. She is a bit younger. She has an innocently daffy quality. She has no wayward daughters.
I’d not vote for her as dog-catcher, even if I lived in Delaware, but she is infinitely easier to take than Mrs. Palin. I kind of like her. And I’ll like her more now that she is the absurd Keith Olbermann’s new bete noire, and Bill Maher (whom I really do admire) has threatened to release embarrassing clips of O’Donnell taken from her numerous appearances on his old “Politically Incorrect” TV program. The more you try to push somebody down, the more likely that person will look like a victim.
As to O’Donnell’s now-infamous “witchcraft” comments: Hil-ar-i-ous! Especially her bit about being young and hangin’ around nutty people. (This courtesy of Mr. Maher.) Mr. wOw agrees. He’d never want to be judged by the company he kept from age 15 to 25. Although, I must admit, I never went on a date that involved a bloody sacrificial altar. Maybe that was my loss.
I wish she hadn’t canceled her Sunday morning appearances. I was hoping for a good juicy time as so-called reputable journalists fried her about her Wiccan wanderings. (Not to mention the other issues – unpaid taxes and such.) Karl Rove hates her. What does that say? I say, anybody Rove hates I can’t dismiss out of hand. As a person, not as a politician.
She is (so far) better spoken than her mentor, Mrs. Palin, and a more sympathetic type. Although Sarah just remarked as to a presidential run, “I’d give it a shot,” so we are not out of the woods yet.
As to what O’Donnell wants now that Palin has launched her? Well, in “All About Eve” Celeste Holm said it best: “Eve would ask Abbott for Costello!”
Lindsay. Alas, her detractors were correct when they said (hoped) she’d fall off the wagon in just no time at all. She failed several drug tests, one for cocaine. She says she’s sorry and ready to “face the consequences.” (This could mean a full 30 to 45 days in jail) In the wake of this latest upset, she has been photographed, looking lovely, exiting AA meetings. The judge, however, knows PR photoshopping when she sees it.
The one good thing to come out of this is she might lose her role in the Linda Lovelace biopic, “Inferno.” I don’t want the girl out of work, but really … why play into the worst of her image?
Why not just deprive her of her driver’s license – forever? Make it a crime for her to get behind the wheel of a car. All this drama stems from her old DUIs. It’s not a crime to take a drink or take cocaine. (Though possessing the latter can be trouble. Unless you are Paris Hilton who got off easy. Next time put it where you used to stash it, not in your purse, honey.)
Let Miss Lohan self-destruct on her own time and stop wasting taxpayer money on her various punishments. California needs every cent.
A fetishist in Hong Kong was gypped recently, I say.
Some guy (though I suppose I shouldn’t assume the gender) paid $5,200 for a brassiere that supposedly belonged to Marilyn Monroe. It was a fantastic contraption, thick and padded and with odd straps. The auction house insisted MM wore this thing to “boost her bust.”
OK … now Mr. wOw knows it does him no credit to be an expert on such matters but … he is. This item might have been among so many of Marilyn’s personal possessions that have survived to be sold off, but I find it hard to believe she ever wore it. It was too bulky to have given Monroe the unencumbered-by-underwear image she desired. In the 1950s clothes were more structured and support was always built in, especially eveningwear. She hardly needed such a complicated device to give her more of what nature had provided. Bras were designed like rocket ships anyway.
She did pad, when she was very slender, but she was rarely very slender. (She didn’t especially mind being plump – her bosom was bigger.) And her tricks were the standard kind. Toward the end of her life, on the set of her final unfinished film, she became convinced her glamorous co-star Cyd Charisse was padding her bra. Monroe protested to the highly amused producer. “Marilyn, first of all, you haven’t been here in days, how would you know? And anyway we’re shooting her in a negligee, how could she pad?”
The paranoid star replied, “Oh, please, you are so naïve. You do it with tape, from underneath.” She spoke from experience.
George Masters, the hairdresser who worked on her in the final (thin) year of her life, said Marilyn “very, very rarely” wore a bra. And when she did, it was “two thin strings and a half cup, called a ‘No No Bra.’ But mostly not. She looked good without a bra. She didn’t have a huge bust.”
Mr. wOw actually had hand-to-hand contact with Marilyn’s lingerie. Many years ago, my cousin Stephen was working for Diana Vreeland at the Metropolitan Museum. It came time for one of the annual Costume Exhibits. Many of Marilyn’s gowns were to be displayed. My cousin called me up and said, “I don’t know what the hell all this is they sent over. You’re the nut for her. Come over here and help me! Make your madness useful.”
I didn’t hesitate. I hurried over to the museum and was ushered into a huge room, while my cousin (whom I adored) said, “He’s the one. He’ll know for sure” while rolling his eyes and running out, not wanting too much association with me and my idolatry of the dead and bleached.
Indeed, I was able to confirm the authenticity of any number of the dresses (and later would provide some photos). Along with the showy, sexy numbers, there was also a lot of elegant-looking couture that she must have worn privately, and what seemed like hundreds of simple black cocktail dresses. Incredibly, tossed in rather carelessly I thought, was the infamous Jean Louis gown Marilyn wore to sing “Happy Birthday” to JFK. I was stunned that I could touch it, and when I did, shocked that I could see my hand through the sheer material!
But what impacted me most was a box full of Monroe’s undergarments. Surely these were not part of the exhibit? I found it creepy and disrespectful. Uh, but yeah – I looked through it.
Everything looked normal. Regular bras and panties. Like any regular woman would possess. I’m sure I would have noticed that thing that went up for auction to the Hong Kong buyer.
But somewhere in the Far East, somebody’s trying the damn thing on, or insisting somebody else try it on, you can be sure.