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November 21st 2003 Last night was one of those nights that makes a girl proud to be a New Yorker. Anyone who has ever visited NYC in November & December knows that it is simply the best place to be on the entire planet at this time of year. The evening began with UNICEF’s snowflake lighting on Fifth Avenue. Most people know of the tree at Rockefeller Center, but the UNICEF snowflake is a gigantic snowflake that hangs above NYC’s most famous intersection, Fifth Ave and 57th Street. The event was hosted by Mayor Bloomberg and HOLLYWOULD’s very own favorite, Liv Tyler. Leslie and I had been invited by our fabulous friend Jennifer Bell, who has been working with UNICEF to plan the event. As soon as the snowflake had been lit, everyone headed to the Plaza Hotel for a small sit-down dinner, attended by UNICEF supporters like Liv Tyler, Mary Alice Stephenson, Bryant Gumble, and Matt Lauer (yes girls, he is super cute in person). For those of you who don’t know, UNICEF organizes health and food programs for impoverished children all over the globe. It is an awesome organization and they are looking to raise $5,000,000 over the next two years. If any of you have $5,000,000 lying around, I would highly recommend sending it directly to their offices here in NYC immediately. Look out for future HOLLYWOULD events to benefit UNICEF. From the UNICEF dinner we headed next door to the Swarovski Crystal party at Bergdorf Goodman. I’ve never seen so many people crammed into the Bergdorf’s first floor, but the amazing display of Swarovski Crystal chandeliers made the soccer match atmosphere worth every minute. There I ran into the lovely Nadia Swarovski, who looked gorgeous as usual in a crystal chandelier necklace, and the charming Robert Burke, who is our favorite Bergdorf Goodman creative guru. Am off to Palm Beach today girls. Kiss kiss…. November 20th 2003 Geez, I got so carried away with yesterday’s diary entry that I forgot to tell you all about my Tuesday night, which began at our favorite West Village haunt, Rose’s Turn. If you haven’t been to Rose’s Turn, it is a fabulous sing-a-long bar complete with singing piano man (or woman) and a bar staff who dances on tables. Legend has it that Bette Milder and Woody Allen both used to work here, and every night different Broadway stars take to the mike as soon as their uptown performances finish. Music choices range from Billy Joel to Gloria Gaynor, so it basically just doesn’t get better than this. My partner in crime for the evening was HOLLYWOULD’s very own Nick Day, who would be in many photos on this very page if he hadn’t lost our digital camera within the first 20 minutes of our evening. Ah, Nick. Despite the loss of camera, our evening fun wasn’t hampered and Nick and I managed to polish off one drink after the next while belting out Neil Diamond’s greatest hits. I always get so drunk at Rose’s Turn that I end up getting really sentimental about how much I love New York, and by the time Simon & Garfunkle’s song “New York” is being played I am singing through tears. It was a moment like this that Nick & I decided we should call our favorite New Yorkers and invite them to come meet us. Any other pair would probably call people they actually knew, but Nick and I decided instead to call people we wish we knew, which lead to crank calls to our two favorite celebrities on the planet… Parker Posey and Amy Sedaris. Don’t even ask how we got their phone numbers (stalkers?), but both Parker & Amy got messages from Nick saying something like, “Hi sweetie! We’re at Rose’s Turn! Come meet us!” We waited and waited but Parker and Amy didn’t arrive in time to see us (we are so totally sure they came later) and we were off to Hope Atherton’s birthday party... If you don’t know Hope Atherton, you simply haven’t been reading your Vogue. Hope is NYC’s ultimate “It Girl”, and probably the best dressed girl I know. Her personal style is somewhere between Valentino Haute Couture and Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome, which, as you can imagine, is absolutely genius. She also happens to be an amazing artist, and is basically just a rad chick. I love using terms like “rad chick” because they are so eloquent and descriptive. Anyway, Hope’s party rocked and moved from the Maritime Hotel to a dive bar afterparty that lasted until 3am, when your’s truly decided it was time to hit the hay as I had an 9am photoshoot & interview (don’t even ask). Still recovering from way too many drinks and I have three parties to attend tonight. I want to put this in print so you girls can hold me to it: I will NOT have ANY booze tonight. Will keep you posted…. November 19th 2003 It’s only Wednesday and I’ve already suffered two full days of hangovers this week! The fun began on Monday night, when Leslie invited me to attend the “Willow Awards” for the Girls Club of New York. The party was hosted by one of my childhood fashion heroes, Patricia Fields, who was famous then for owning the most stylish shop in NYC, and is famous now for being the costume designer of Sex and the City. It is Patricia we have to thank for Carrie Bradshaw’s fabulous looks, and if she could dress the rest of television (ie: those poorly dressed girls on The Bachelor), the world would be a better place. Also hosting the event was the lovely Chloe Sevigny, who looked stunning as ever in a beautiful high collared gown. Chloe is not only smart, funny, and charming, but famous for looking fabulous in a way that deserves an entire coffee table book dedicated to her style. Chloe, I hope you have a record of all of those gorgeous outfits so that Rizzoli won’t have to work too hard. The party was … meaningful, and my 3 vodka cokes on an empty stomach made me very eager to make new friends, so when Leslie saw me mouthing “let’s do lunch” to a stranger from across the room, she decided it was time for us to leave. Never one to want to go home early, I forced Leslie to pop by the Mercer Hotel for a bite to eat before heading to bed. As luck would have it, I ran into a new friend of mine in the lobby, who we will call “Bobby G”. I met Bobby G* at a party a little while back, and because he seemed to know all of my friends from all over the globe, I immediately liked him. These kind of acquaintances exist in NYC in abundance, and I had never questioned any of Bobby G’s other attributes or qualifications. However, upon meeting him a second time, I realized one thing about Bobby G: He is shady. And if you’re wondering what makes someone qualify as “shady”, here is a pretty quick list:
Strangely, now that I have realized just how shady my new friend is, I have decided that he is by far the most interesting person I know, and I must solve the mysteries of all of the above. Will let you know what comes of it…. *the name has been changed to protect the guilty November 17th 2003 Finally back in NYC and it seems everyone has already started their holiday shopping. HOLLYWOULD favorite Blaine Trump was in the store this week looking like she should be on the cover of a book called, “The Ultimate Luxury”. Wouldn’t that be a great book? She always looks fantastic. The gorgeous Famke Janssen was in the store too, and looked fabulous in everything she put on, which is no surprise. And, our beloved Liv Tyler has just bought HOLLYWOULD shoes to wear for all of her upcoming Lord of the Rings events. We love you Liv, and please give Orlando Bloom a big kiss from the girls chez HOLLYWOULD (he is one of our many “office hotties”). Now that I’m back in NYC and the party season is just getting started, I hope to have lots of juicy gossip for you girls in the upcoming weeks, so stay tuned…. November 13th 2003 Many of you already know this, but one of our cherished HOLLYWOULD staff members, Erin (see all diary entries & photos), has recently left us and moved to London. She has long deserved a diary entry in her honor and I think now is the perfect time. Erin, since I know you are currently sitting in your kitchen in Kensington, having just finished a bottle of Veuve Cliquot with your mom, I will write this in the form of a toast to give you both an excuse to open bottle #2: There are many great things about Erin, but the thing people notice right away is her amazing personal style. No matter what the day, temperature, or situation, Erin always looks great. There have been times when we other girls have sat around the office and pondered, “What’s her secret? How can she be wearing a pair of cargo pants and look like a million bucks?” Everyone who knows her knows she always looks fabulous, and I have finally decided I know why: Erin does not wear knock-offs. Now, I’m sure you’re thinking, “I don’t either”, but when I mean “knock-offs” I don’t just mean the obvious Steve Madden and Canal Street. I mean any kind of clothes other than “Designer”. For example, Erin has never, in her whole life, set foot in Zara, Club Monaco, BCBG, H&M, or Urban Outfitters. I find this amazing. When I tried to get her to go to Top Shop in London she responded, “Why would I want to go there when I have Harvey Nics?” This philosophy is genius. Erin would never buy a copy of last season’s Prada, probably made by children in China. She would, instead, get the real Prada, made by Italian tailors, and have it to wear forever. And you know what? You can tell. Prada cargo pants just fit differently than Zara’s. It’s a fact. And you may be thinking, “I can’t afford to shop like that!”, but I bet you are wrong. I cannot count the hundreds of Top Shop type items I have bought over the years, worn once or twice, and tossed. If I had instead bought fewer items of “made in Italy” quality, I would be all the richer. And if you don’t believe me still, try selling H&M on E-bay. Good luck. Now try selling the Jean Paul Gaultier jacket you bought at the Barney’s Outlet for $60 in 1993. That’s right, you got $120 for it this time around. See, it’s worth it. And, when you wore your JPG jacket, even though you only wore it once, everyone loved it and wondered where on earth you got it. They are still talking about it, and it’s been 10 years. The only thing that happened when you wore H&M was that a girl from New Jersey, while in the bathroom line with you at a bad nightclub, said, “Oh my Gwad! I have the exact same shirt!” You know I’m right. Where was this going? Oh yes, the point of my toast is this: Erin is a fashion genius and we all need to learn from her. Stay away from mall shops and stick to designer labels that say “made in Italy” on the tag. If you do this then you too, some day, will be a fashion hero. Here’s to Erin! November 7th 2003 I recently got in an argument with my brother-in-law on the topic of “Celebrities”. He saw me reading a fresh copy of Us Weekly and said, “Why do you care about those people? They don’t care about your life, why should you care about theirs?” Ouch. I argued that surely he cared about the lives of some of his favorite professional athletes, but he assured me that other than their “stats”, he really wasn’t interested. Boys are soooooo weird. How can you just not care? How can you not want to watch every single episode of Cribs and every E! True Hollywood Story? Who doesn’t want to know all about Liza Minelli and David Guest? (Actually, I am too lazy to care about Liza & David, though I will admit that it would be paradise to sit next to their former personal assistant at a dinner party where, with prize winning narration skills, he would give me the inside scoop on everything that went down from the beatings to the plastic surgery) Anywho, what were we talking about? Oh yeah, celebrities. Well, today at my shoe factory, I witnessed the “Power of Celebrity” like I’ve never seen it before. You see, I wanted to try to sweet-talk my way into getting some special shoes made in a rush for one of our favorite HOLLYWOULD girls, and I knew it would take a serious miracle. In the past, I’ve managed to bribe the men who work at the factory with everything from homemade cookies to Yankees gear, but I was running out of ideas. Then it dawned on me that I may be able to get them excited by showing them some of our recent press. So, I brought in copies of some of the latest magazines where HOLLYWOULD is on display. First, I showed them the gorgeous picture on page 120 of this month’s Town & Country. This is one of my favorite HOLLYWOULD pictures ever taken, and highlights our new green “Erin” shoes (out in December) amongst summer fruits and shoes from our other favorite brands including Chanel, Jimmy Choo, Guiseppe Zanotti, and Brian Atwood. But despite its beauty, the men were not moved. Strike one. Second, I whipped out the latest copy of Elle (Kirsten Dunst cover) and showed them our yellow “Marley” shoe (also out in December) paired with a drop-dead beautiful dress. Again, a couple of eyebrows raised, but no movement towards my rush project. Strike two. So, I pulled out a copy of the latest Italian Vanity Fair (Asia Argento cover). I thought for sure this would do the trick, being an Italian magazine and all. As they looked over the 5 page spread of a gorgeous model, half naked, wearing an assortment of HOLLYWOULD shoes and bags, some grunts were made and they even touched the page, but alas, no one had time for my project. Strike three. Desperate, I showed them our little article on page 39 of this week’s Us Weekly (Reese Witherspoon cover). Since I was dealing with a bunch of men, I thought surely the celebrity factor wouldn’t do much, even though there were pictures of Mena Suvari, Liv Tyler, and Mary J Blige, all with HOLLYWOULD shoes. How I underestimated the power of these women! The minute they saw the picture Mena they screamed, “Oooo…the American Beauty. We would love to see her in only those Tara Boots*!” And then about Liv, “Ahhh…the princess from the movie. We love her lips. Which one of us would do you think she would date?” And then about Mary J., “Ohhh…she is so pretty. Can she come and sing for us in those shoes and a bikini?” Needless to say, they agreed to make the special shoes. Although the deal was done with no need for further bribery, I now I realized that I might be able to get in a few more favors by showing them one last picture: Harper’s Bazaar, December 2003, Page 180. Salma Hayek lying on a bed wearing our pink “Erin” shoes. Salma honey, you have no idea. Not only are they now willing to do anything I ask them, but we may need to install a permanent cold shower at the factory. Mena, Liv, Mary J, and Salma, thanks for pitching in! *The Tara Boots owned by Mena Suvari have been a favorite amongst all of our hip starlet gals from LA to London (rumor has it that our favorite fashion icon ever, Kate Moss, even has a pair!). I’ve been wearing them all fall with jeans tucked in, or with knee-length skirts & minis. And…I think that for reading to the bottom of this diary entry you all deserve an additional 50% OFF when you order them from our store! Shhhh …. HOLLYWOULD ... 212.343.8344 (ext. 2) ... You snooze, you lose. November 5th 2003 Have you ever flown First Class on Air France? I don’t mean “Business Class”, or just domestic “First Class”, I mean “International, Trans-Atlantic First Class”. It is quite an experience. Until six months ago I used to only fly Economy Class. As I would board the plane and walk past all of the men in Business Class, I would think, “Who wants to be up there with all those stiffs?” I was perfectly happy sharing a row with a college soccer team and/or scores of male models heading to Milan (see Jan 4), and I figured if it was good enough for them, it was good enough for me. Ignorance was bliss until this past June, when I was “upgraded” to Business Class. Ever since that fateful day I have found Economy Class, and everyone who flys it, unbearable. I like Business Class. I like having my meals served to me on a table cloth. I like the little “gift” bag of mini-products and eye masks. I like getting to recline to a 45° angle instead of Economy’s 90°. I like my foot rest. I like it that they offer you champagne before the airplane door has even closed, and continue offering it until the door re-opens. I like being able to choose from a wider range of top notch movies. And I even kind of like being surrounded by all those business men – they are so polite and quiet. As you can see, I’ve been adjusting to Business Class rather nicely. I’ve been extremely content, and was even considering myself quite well spoilt, until yesterday when fate intervened yet again. I was upgraded to First Class. Girls, First Class is a whole new experience. Whenever I have bought tickets online, I have looked at International First Class prices and thought, “I could buy EIGHT Hermes towels for that price!” (see May 4) And like me, you’re probably thinking, “Surely, nothing is worth that.” Hmmmm…it’s a toss up. I felt like George & Wheezy Jefferson in their “deluxe apartment in the sky”. For cryin’ out loud, they give you a Christian Lacroix sweatsuit to wear on the plane and then keep forever. Christian Lacroix! The seats turn into full-fledged beds, and they give you a down duvet comforter with fluffy down pillow. The food is seriously better than Balthazar and the movie choices are endless (because I am in constant need of highly intellectual stimulation, I chose 2 Fast, 2 Furious). With all of the above considered, the very best thing about First Class is the people who fly it. Anyone who has ever worked a day in their life knows that 9 hours of comfort isn’t worth $7,000, no matter who you are. So, the only people left who would pay this price are those people who, in fact, have never worked a day in their life. For example, on my flight there was a woman (traveling with her Polynesian servant) who was wearing a gold lamé turban (Liz Taylor style), more fur than you would find at a zoo, and more jewels than you would find in Buckingham Palace. Also flying with me was what seemed to be an Indian pop-star, wearing a Hawaiian print shirt, shiny pants and platform sneakers (sorry to offend you Indian pop-stars, but your “job” doesn’t qualify as “working a day in your life”). Also along for the ride were two heiresses who were basically the French versions of Paris & Nikki Hilton. And last, there was a man who had so much plastic surgery it was hard to tell whether he was 18 or 98. He was traveling with a “companion” who was a dead ringer for Siegfried of ‘Siegfried & Roy’, and they were wearing matching Claude Montana jumpsuits. Amazing. The bad news is that now that I know what it feels like to be “Movin’ On Up”, I’ll never want to fly Business Class again. Who will fund this bad new habit??? Dear Air France President, Since I give you so much love on this diary every single month, and since I fly your airline with loyalty and never, ever complain, please send me lots of free upgrades to First Class. I promise I’ll bring my Christian Lacroix sweatsuit with me so you don’t even have to give me a new one, and I won’t eat very much and will bring my own booze. Deal? Great! xoxo, Holly November 4th 2003 My grandmother used to make her dog Benji wear one of those electric shock collars so that he wouldn’t run into the street. (We actually used to put the collar on my brother and make him run into the street, but that’s another story…) Anyway, since Benji had tried to cross the electric beam many times and been zapped, it got to the point where he knew the boundaries and steered clear of them. Why then, having experienced one grueling hangover after another, do I never learn my lesson? The fact that Too Much Booze = Painful Next Day, is never considered when I’m ordering my fifth martini. If I could record the feeling I have right now in my memory forever, I would never have a drink again. The cocktails began at the Accessories Council Awards Dinner at the Cipriani. A couple of weeks ago the Accessories Council called HOLLYWOULD and told us that we had won the “Rising Star Award for Accessory Design” and as you can imagine, I was elated. They invited us to a big, fancy, black-tie soiree, and informed me that not only would I need to give a speech to a crowd of hundreds, but I would also need to find a “celebrity” to present my award. Now, since I don’t like to pimp out our celebrity customers, I didn’t really know what to do. It’s kind of tacky to call someone and say “Hey, I know we’re not really friends, but since you’re famous and wear my shoes, would you mind attending this event with me and giving a speech about how much you love me to a crowd of hundreds of strangers?” I knew it would take a very laid back, unaffected, supremely cool girl to agree to a job like that, so I called Rashida Jones. For those of you who don’t know Rashida Jones, she is officially The Coolest Girl Alive. (You must go out and rent every movie she has ever made today, and be the first in line to see her new movie (out this summer) called “Little Black Book” also starring Ron Livingston, Holly Hunter, Cathy Bates, and Brittney Murphy. Rashida’s “Coolest Girl Alive” status is due to many things:
Needless to say, I don’t think anyone will be taking Rashida’s “Coolest Girl Alive title any time soon. We love you Rashida and thank you so much! The Accessories Council Dinner was hilarious. The MC for the evening was Tom Wopat, also known as “Luke Duke” from the Dukes of Hazard. Amazing. Also in attendance was a very, very scantily clad Toni Braxton (why not just come naked, Toni?) and the legendary Eartha Kitt. Also amazing. From the dinner we headed to the HOLLYWOULD Afterparty (see Nov 1) at favorite nightspot Bungalow 8. Bungalow 8 always causes me problems. Last night I finally realized that the reason I get into trouble there is because the bartenders happen to be wizards. The drink that is inflicting so much pain on me today was a “Vanilla Coke”, made with vanilla Stoli vodka and Diet Coke. Stuff is good. The party was rockin’. “Word up” to everyone who came out late on a Monday night - it’s so nice to have friends who don’t have real jobs. And, since it was officially an “Awards Night”, I would like to give awards to the following people:
I know I’m forgetting a ton of fabulous people, but if you arrived after my fourth “Vanilla Coke”, that is the price you pay. ***Since I have early onset Alzheimer’s, when I met Josh Charles last night, I thought he must have been someone I knew from college or high school. By the time I stumbled into the office today, the girls had printed out Josh’s bio, “filmography”, and every photo ever taken. Google.com is miraculous. Josh did not go to my high school. He went to that other one, the one with….The Dead Poet’s Society. Yeah, and he was also in S.W.A.T., the only movie I have actually seen in the theater (instead of on the plane) in the last three years. Stone Cold Fox. Am back on a plane to Italy tomorrow to hang out at the shoe factory and design “Fall 2004”. Oh girls, the things I do for you. November 1st 2003 For those of you who received an invite to the HOLLYWOULD “Afterparty” and have not yet RSVP’d, you must do so immediately. Don’t plan on just showin’ up at the club and getting’ in just because you’re a rockstar, editor, supermodel, gossip columnist, famous actress, heiress, socialite, or all of the above. As you know, this joint has a very strict door policy (I’ve seen them turn away many “A List”) so if you want to get in the door, you need to RSVP as requested on the invitation. For those of you who didn’t receive an invite, there are two reasons this may have happened:
One last disclaimer: I did not hire the deejay. I didn’t have time to get it together so I put the club in charge. Every time I have been there I have thought the music was supreme, but I am a little bit worried that my opinion may have been swayed by lethal amounts of alcohol. For all I know, we could be in for five hours of Whitesnake. So, I’m sorry if you don’t hear your favorite hit from The Darkness or the latest remix from Jay Z, but please don’t harass the deejay. ‘Cause I know what it means, to walk along the lonely street of dreams. Here I go again... |
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2010
