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Underappreciated Child Actor # 1: Virginia Weidler

Have you noticed that all of VH1's and E!'s "new" summer programing is basically rewarmed footage from the vaults? The "new" E! True Hollywood Story of Lindsay is a big load; there is *nothing* new here, except perhaps a few extra shots of her crazy mama defending her child's partying because poor Lindz isn't in college experiencing that whole developmental stage that is *totally* dependent on attending frat parties. Poor Lindsay! You keep partying sweetie!

But we digress . . .Our point is that in all the "new" summer countdowns of child stars, many of our very favorites are ommitted. So we feel it is our duty to fill in the gaps. Yes, dear reader, we really do care about you.


Virginia Weidler and fluff


One of our favorite moments in all of cinema features the charming and adorable Virginia Weidler.

The scene is from the star-studded The Philadelphia Story; it's when tabloid reporter/ photographer duo (James Stewart and Ruth Hussey) first arrive at the family manse (they are there to spy on socialite Tracy Lord's (Hepburn's) wedding). While they are waiting to be received, Virgina, who plays Katherine Hepburn's little sister, twirls into the room in a tutu, perches precociously at the piano, and starts singing "Lydia, oh Lydia" in the most hilarious way. The joke continues when Hepburn enters and the two speak in the most affected French, leaving the tabloid reporters to assume they have truly enetered biazzaro land. Despite sharing the screen with two giants, Weilder holds her own and (we think) basically steals the scene. Every segment she is in is truly lovable.


a younger Ginny with a younger fluff

She also appeared in another of our favorites, The Women (also directed by George Kukor). She's smart, sassy, straightforward and so completely watchable and so absolutely un-saccharine that she never makes us cringe. Of all the real live child actors we can think of, she is the only one who could have played a live-action version of a Miyazaki heroine. She makes us miss our little sisters.

Unfortunately, Virginia died early (at age 42) from a heart condition. She didn't do much after adolescence, so pictures of her post-puberty have been hard to find. But you can see more photos of Virginia here. And of course, you can go watch her movies.

BTW: the dog in the top photo, a still from the movie Bad Little Angel, is the same dog who played Toto.

The Sisterhood of the Cute Little Fluffies

kelly and her little yorkie

You may remember our post about Beyonce's pooch Munch Munch. And since we feel it is our duty to keep you aprised of all the cutest hollywood fluffs, we wanted to let you know about MOCHA, Kelly Rowland's adorable little yorkie.




k and m, cute as buttons

We found out about MOCHA on MTV CRIBS. Rowland's house is really beautiful, but nothing could compare to her little puppy. Kelly appears to shower little M with attention; she has her own grooming corner in Rowland's closet, and we all know that closet sharing signifies only the deepest love. Kelly even got on the stairmaster with mocha in her arms! Now THAT'S the way to exercise!

And BTW, Kelly is one of our new favorite celebs. She said she got three of everything (like yoga mats) because she likes to hang with her sistas (those other two children of destiny, or I suppose I must say retired children since Destiny's Child is officially over. boo hoo.). Anyway, we love that she is so into hanging with her girls.


You can see a watercolor of little mocha here.

Our Peeps!

We're back from the h-moon! Stay tuned for posts on Kelly Rowland and her yorkie Mocha, Bergdorf Blondes, the bitchin' fashion sported by the Japanese tourists in Waikiki, the freshy fresh Missy video, Miyazaki's Howl's Moving Castle, underappreciated child stars, leis (the most underused fashion accessory ever!), and the fecund goodness of the papaya.

It's about fucking time

We Go Where the Coffee Grow

the official drink of fluffy dollars starts out as beautiful red berries


I would wear this to go swimming in hanauma bay if it came in my size:


we approve of water costumes. we approve of costumes anytime.

We So Wedded

fluffy bride

Oh, and btw, tom and katie are engaged.

Copy cats.

Kathleen Hanna


what punk rock goddess are you?
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The Contradictory World of Chick Lit

sista solidarity (click chicks to link to chicklit)

I thought this post over at Tingle Alley was pretty interesting. In fact, it syncs up with some of my feelings about the wedding industry (I think the trends are connected).

Anyway, this is what I said:

I’ve enjoyed many novels about the inner lives of fourteen year old girls (Member of the Wedding, Jane Eyre, The Bluest Eye, and Weetzie Bat – just to name a few faves).

And of course, as the above commenters point out, the label “chick lit” is distinct from the books themselves (and the authors), but of course the way this label operates is worth parsing out – especially in the way it influences reviews and sales.

And I can’t help but think of the diet or beauty industry (which also almost exclusively target women); the products in these categories are successful because they inspire both desire and shame. And they inspire a fantasy of being desired, or at least suggest that the key to being powerful is to be desireable. But this fantasy can only be fulfilled if one buys the product. Anyway, what fantasies are people fulfilling when they buy these “chick lit” books? What fantasies do these books inspire? And what does this suggest about our culture?

I’m worndering why more people aren’t exploring the class factor in these books. Most of them are about middle or upper class women who drink mojitos and carry fendi bags.

And I’m not really sure of the history, but wern’t romance novels (harlequins) popular among repressed housewives during the fifties? didn’t these books help women explore their sexuality? But didn’t these novels falsely resolve gender inequalities in the idealized world of boddice-ripping knights and noble ladies?

Anyway, any chance today’s “chick lit” does something similar? That is to say, falsely resolve some conflict our culture is still reluctant to really confront (such as persisting class and gender inequality)?

Anyways, while I'm on the subject of books and chicks, I'd like to recommend Pink Think by Lynn Peril and Nickle and Dimed by Barbara Ehrenreich. Also, check out chicklit.com.


hip chicks

And I'd like to note that I really like chicks, you know like baby chickens. Did any of you see that promo for Making the Band 3 that was just shots of little fluffy chicks perched on mini ikea furniture? There was this voice over -- like the chicks were talking to each other -- saying stuff like, "well, you know what happens when you get a bunch of girls in one house. We're getting along I guess . . .for now!" Anyway, this promo was genius. So fun to watch . I'd watch a whole show of sassy chicks (of the baby chicken variety) peck around a mini hipster loft apartment. Where's that show?

Don't Swallow This: WE's Bridezilla

fresh from the wedding factory

The Bridal Industry is evil evil evil. It's like the diet industry and the beauty industry had a menage a trois with a cupcake and spawned some malicious goo monster that eats soon-to-be-wed women's money and self respect.

It's an industry filled with assumptions and insinuations: this will be the best day of your life, you will wear a "beautiful" white dress (that also makes you look like a poodle and symbolizes your soon to be defrocked virginity), you will be the princess in the fairy tale. And also, your father will give you away, you will have a bachelorette party and suck on penis shaped lollypops and do "blow job" shots, and you will subject your friends to horrific dresses in addition to feeling obligated to cater to your every whim because you've made them "bridesmaids." You will lose twenty pounds because everyone will be scrutinizing you. Start getting manicures at least three months before! plus chemical peels and teeth whitening treatments because those pictures last forever!!! And you know, you're pretty ugly now, so . . .

We know what people do on their wedding day is completely up to them; we're not trying to judge. It's just that, because WE are getting married in a week, we're feeling a little sick of people telling us what to do. We *do not* like people telling us what to do. grrrr!

But even after all our recent exposure to the evil wedding beastie, we were just *not* prepared for WE's show Bridezilla.

This show is an offensive, degrading mess. In fact, it's straight up offendoplex worthy, with promos that cheerily sing "can't talk to her, can't kill her -- she's bridezilla" as a crazed looking bride slices through an ice sculpture with a chain saw. The tag line of the show is "watch real brides go from sweet to certifiable," and on their website there is a picture of a mad-eyed bride in a straight jacket. Another caption says, "engaged, enraged, and about to be committed." Are you catching all these puns? So clever. It's so funny when people are crazy. ha ha ha Funny crazy ladies in their poofy white dresses. What psychos!

The thing is, the whole "bridezilla" stereotype is a product of the wedding industry. It's no wonder brides go crazy when their own wedding planners are saying stuff like, "A lot of couples go into their wedding . . .not even speaking" and "A bride who worked in finance said it perfectly: there is a merger happening here." Ew.

And what's up with WE, the so called "women's entertainment network" making fun of all the crazy ladies? Aren't there some other people who are more worthy of women's scorn? We know the show is meant to be funny, but it just ain't got the chops.


let them eat cake

To promote the show, WE sponsored a zany bridezilla cake dig in times square.

Juxtapose the above scene with this or this or this.

The whole spectacle of high cost weddings totally occludes the ways in which this institution is being used to keep people down. In fact, it provides a false resolution (in an idealized , "fairy tale" landscape) of persisting class and gender inequality.

Anyway, you can take a quiz to test your own bridezilla potential here.

And you can read about the history of marriage here.

Paris and Kathleen Mix it Up

The New York Times actually writes about something interesting

Our Favorite Sisters, or Alpha Lotsa Moolah: The Celebrity Sorority

Number One: Mary Kate and Ashley


mary-kate and ashley

Mary Kate and Ashley are number one because -- face it -- they are the sisters who started this recent trend of celebrity sorority. Plus, they really do seem to have some freaky intense bond. Even though they are no longer sharing an apartment, we bet they have all that neat twin stuff. Like, they can probably read each other's mind and stuff. They are rich as shit, fun to look at, and oddly fascinating. We recently watched the Full House E! True Hollywood Story, and our admiration for this twosome has thus grown immeasurably. Did you know that Bob Saget was always making gross and inappropriate jokes on set? And we had totally forgotten about that "you got it dude!" that MK and Ash had to say. Yikes.

Number Two: Jessica and Ashlee


Jessica and Ashlee

Fresh outta Waco, TX, the Simpson sisters are southern fried. We think Jessica is sorta smart (but think her new video must have been directed by that awful daddy of hers) and find Ashlee awfully dense (though we just can't change the channel when her show is on). But we wonder, do they even like each other? Ashlee is almost invisible throughout the first three seasons of Newlyweds, and it doesn't really seem like they ever hang out or paint each other's toenails or -- I dunno -- talk? But there was this really great scene on the Ashlee show when Jessica did the robot dance to one of Ashlee's songs. And then Jessica yelled at Ashlee to stop dressing like such a boy (Ashlee was probably just trying to hide her boobs from their dad). And of course they also did that hilarious duet of "Little Drummer Boy" on their Christmas special.

"I have no gifts to bring pa-rum-pa-pa-pum"


Number Three: Beyonce and Solange


Beyonce and Solange


Beyonce has enough star power to light her own solar system, and many of Destiny's Child songs are about sista solidarity. Plus, she and Jay-Z are our favorite Hollywood Couple. Although her sister Solange is not nearly as high-profile as B, she's definitely got the Knowles sheen about her. Plus she seems sort of content and down-to-earth and happy.


Number Four: Paris and Nikki


Paris and Nikki

Our guilty pleasure. How is it that we are not totally sick of these people yet?

Number Five: Hillary and Haylie


Hillary and Haylie

A love/hate relationship. We love their dog, but hate their cover of the Go-Go's classic "Our Lips are Sealed." WTF were they thinking? Plus, they took over the Liquid Ice campaign after the Simpson sisteres backed out, and taking sloppy seconds from an endorsement seems pretty shameless. But Hillary doesn't seem to mind that her sister is trying to get a piece of her fame, so they must genuinely sorta like each other.

Number Six: Britney and Jamie-Lynn


Britney and Jamie-Lynn

We loved it when Britney coyly dissed Eminem on the premier episode of Chaotic: "I think he complains alot. But, I mean, that's cool. It's cool when guys complain about all the stuff girls have done to them. And their mom and stuff. I mean, whatever gets you in the game." ha ha Brit!

Anyway . . .sisters. At this point, we're not sure if these guys are going to give us years of entertainment (clubbing and dancing on tables together after britney and k-fed split), or if they've sort of plateaued. We like when Britney talked about wanting to keep her show clean for her sister's sake, and we liked Jamie-Lynn's reaction to Brit's Madonna kiss ("I was like, oh my gah -- she did not just do that"). Plus, she's already been featured on Go Fug Yourself.


Number Seven: Venus and Serena


venus and serena

These two definitely have the best names, and they are sooo rad. It is really fun to watch them hit that little yellow ball, and they definitely rock the courtside fashion. They'd be higher on our list if they were out and about a bit more. Their website is very pink.


Sisters With Potential:

Mischa and Hania


Hania and Mischa

Yesterdays not-so-blind item has us very excited about Mischa's little sis. She sounds like a real wild child! And what cute names they have. Bring on the schadenfreude!!!


Lindsay's Sis Aliana

She looks like a total priss. But that dog is really cute.

I LOVE GOLDEN STAR!!!

I love Golden Star

Sad Billionaire enjoyed many aspects of growing up in the Canadian hinterland, but perhaps none so much as the exposure to truly nutty cultural effluvia. Officially mandated multiculturalism translated in the real world into some of the best brain-twisting television known to humankind.

On any given Sunday morning, the TV was a riot of harmonium-pumping Sufis, millenarian Azerbaijanis, and yodeling Croats. Not watching compulsively was obviously not an option. The language barrier was such that it was impossible to figure out how to replicate the experience should one so wish. Many a time I would hear a ripping electronic bozouki solo during the Greek TV hour and wish to purchase a cassette by said artist, but how would I do it? Walk into a shop in the Greek neighborhood and ask if they knew about a guy with a Juan Epstein afro and a pirate shirt who played hot electronic bozouki?

The problem was that the posters in the Greek record stores (I got as far as entering them and trying to look nonchalant) gave the clear impression that there was more than one electronic bozouki player with a Juan Epstein afro and a pirate shirt... How would I be sure I wouldn't end up with the crap bozoukist? I mean, a Greek preteen following the same methodology could go into a store hoping to buy a Jimi Hendrix tape and end up going home with a John Stamos one. Horrible, even as a thought-experiment.

All of this leads me to the subject of today's post-- Punjabi recording artists Golden Star. One Sunday morning a few years ago, I tuned in to my favorite TV station, and saw the most sublime, mind-altering hour of music ever! Choreographed dance routines shot in super lo-8: teams of tubby, bearded men rocking out the hippest moves this side of "Dance Fever." Mesemerizing beats, all supported by an insistent Bollywood surf guitar rhythm: DOING-d-doing-d-doing-d-doing-doing; DOING-d-doing-d-doing-d-doing-doing... Incredible!!!

The miracle of the whole thing is that Golden Star (for this was the name of this magical ensemble) kept on flashing ordering information onscreen. Finally, I could keep the flame alive on a day other than Sunday. Unfortunately, the information was like: "Send only 50 Sterling Pounds by certified check to P.O. Box 12 in Madras, c/o "Chucky"... expect Maybe 7-8 months delivery." Again, I felt overly risk-averse.

BUT-- upon moving to Austin, Texas years later, I ventured into the great Waterloo Records store and approached the World Music section with the studied coolness of a doomed man on the way to the gallows... there were few things I was sure of in this godforsaken life, but the fact that a Golden Star CD would never be found in Austin, Texas was one of them.

And, because this is a happy story, of course I found the CD right there!!! Golden Star! In the house! Including their hit, "I Love Golden Star." Now, I too could be a tubby, bearded Punjabi entertainer with a Richard Dawson skinny mic, in the privacy of my home, in my imagination, anytime I wanted.

So, I bought it, of course. And now I am happy. Except that I am also sad. The Sad Billionaire.

Project Poetry Workshop, or Poetry Idol

bitchin' stitchers

Bravo's Project Runway was *by far* our favorite of the latest batch of reality shows. With the exception of American Idol, we'd almost always choose candid reality shows ( a la Newlyweds) over those cheesy competition shows, including those ooey-gooey dating ones. But Project Runway sucked us in immediately. Mostly because it is really really fun to watch people with really good hair make stuff. And when is it not fun to watch sassy and talented young designers have their work critiqued by snarky "professional" or "celebrity" judges?

And Project Runway's illumination of the creative process is really fascinating. Unlike AI or America's Next Top Model, the artists on Project Runway are really more "behind the scenes" artists than they are "performance" artists. We know, we know. Everyone on TV is performing in some way, and of course the clothes "performed" in the weekly runway contest, but what we mean is that a majority of the show took place in the sewing room where the contestants designed and constructed their outfits. And making clothes is really interesting -- the imagination, the technique, the presentation -- and the pressure! In between shots of the designers cutting and sewing and pinning, there were close-ups of the clock and the pointed recording of sidelong glances among the contestants. Interestingly, these designers who must -- by virtue of their vocation -- be intimately famililar with the body in order to outfit it, often communicated as much in theirown body language as they did spoken words. In fact its this aspect of reality show editing that most interests us -- the collaging of glances, gestures, frowns, and self-satisfied grins.

And the show really did showcase the various designers individual "visions." The winner, Jay McCarroll, was by far the most imaginative of the contestants, and well, it was just nice to see imagination rewarded. Certainly more interesting than seeing joe cheddar propose to susie creamcheese. And more interesting than the usual "survival of the fittest" mentality that informs most of these reality tv competitions. In fact, when Runway contestant Wendy Pepper tried to use the tactics that contestants on Big Brother might employ, she sort of ended up the biggest loser of all. Even sweet Jay, who was kind and generous with just about everybody, confessed that he "hated Wendy Pepper."

But we digress again.


beautiful "writer at work" artwork from www.cabanonpress.com

Our idea is to use the Project Runway format, only instead of fashion designers, the contestants could be poets. Each week would be a different poetry "challenge" -- i.e. write a poem only using words that you can find in a supermarket, write a "get well" poem for your favorite ill celebrity, write a birthday poem for George Bush without using the phrase "fuck you." Of course the challenges could also be stuff like "write a sonnet" or "write a dramatic monologue" or "write a poem in ten minutes while sitting in central park." And there would be "celebrity" judges " of course. Jorie Graham could be the host (she's got the hair), and Cole Swenson and W.S. Merwin could be recurring judges. To add some spark and create conflict, one of the judges would have to be an editor or a critic; someone like Helen Vendler or Camille Paglia or Marjorie Perloff or Harold Bloom. We know, you're thinking that these ivory tower folks would never want to be in a reality show, and that may be true. But those people are as vain and narcissistic as everybody else. And they love to hear themselves talk. They'd probably give it a shot.

Instead of a sewing room, the show would have a writing room. Throughout the week, the contestants would gather to workshop the poems in progresss. If you've never been in a workshop, or if you can't imagine what that might be like, you might want to recall that scene in Mean Girls when sweet little Cady compares the kids in her high school cafeteria to wild animals at the water hole. We KNOW -- it may not be the *best* way to create good literature, but it would be pretty entertaining, and it would also help raise poetry's profile (remember -- poetry is the new kabbalah). And the musty old establishment could use a good shake, or at least a satirical exercise.

The prize would be the publication of the winning contenstant's first book. And the fact that all of this is happening on screen would keep this contest clean (no foetry watchdogs needed here) . Then there could be a book tour, and appearances on late night talk shows, and podcasts of the poet reading her/his work.

If you don't think this could work, consider all the press that Novel has received. Look at all the so-called "poet bloggers" (check out the blog roll on Ron Silliman's site) and the growing popularity of groups like the "Lit blog Co-op".

There's an audience for this people.

Poets of the world unite!!! And watch TV!!!!

The Peppy Papillon

dog or butterfly?

Non-Annoying Boy Of The Week: Doug Henwood

What makes the Sad Billionaire happy? Well, besides romantic country walks with Femme Feral, and the beautiful plinky-plonk music of Derek Bailey , my top-ten list would definitely include the one-man political-economy-demystification-machine known as Doug Henwood.

First let me say that my life has been immeasurably better since I started subscribing to Henwood's Left Business Observer newsletter. I am always so happy when the self-published socialist tipsheet appears in the mailbox. It is no exaggeration to say that LBO got me through the galling idiocy of the last election season. Henwood explains complex topics, like petroleum macroeconomics, the meaning of monthly employment statistics, and the evolving landscape of globalization. Amazingly, he does it in a manner that is both technically sophisticated and user-friendly.

Henwood's refusal to indulge in the satisfactions of wonkish obscurantism is really inspiring. Like other non-annoying boys of the week of decades past, such as Karl Marx, E.P. Thompson and Ralph Miliband, Henwood actually thinks that intellectuals who understand the complexities of capitalism (and can read a graph or chart without having their eyes glaze over like a Krispy Kreme donut) have an obligation to try to explain it to the rest of us.

The good news is that Henwood is super-generous with his writings. He put his awesome book about the contours of modern-day Wall Street on the web for free after Verso decided not to reprint it (!): http://www.leftbusinessobserver.com/WSDownload.html. Print it out and read it, and you will be able to rationalize your desire to throw hot coffee at the television whenever "Kudlow and Cramer" and Suze Ormand start their insipid yapping. Not to deny the validity of the unreasonable, primal, dinosaur-brain impulse to take a Louisville Slugger to the TV every time these odious lackeys of the Dow Jones corporation come into view.

Henwood does a radio show on the WBAI radio station. He updates often with recent shows, and has an incredible archive of programs in several formats, going back a few years: http://www.leftbusinessobserver.com/Radio.html. Be sure to find the now classic interview with Slovenian mad genius Slavoj Zizek... it's like a quintuple-espresso in audio form.

Finally, Henwood is always giving props to his wife, Liza Featherstone, who has written an extremely timely and important book about horribleevil Wal-Mart and women workers: Selling Women Short: The Landmark Battle for Worker's Rights at Wal-Mart.

We love cool married couples! We hate the free enterprise system!

Jessica Simpson is not Depressed

"Complete" Seasons 2 and 3

We love Newlyweds!!! What a genius show: expertly edited and hilarious. Now we've heard that some people think JS is stupid, but we know that girl is a smarty (duh!). I mean, she probably hasn't read a book since 1998, but she knows how to make the most of a situation; she's playing up that "dumb blonde" thing and laughing all the way to bank. And seasons 2 and 3 are solid gold. The *best* thing about the DVD set is the special feature called "Jessica's Birthday." This feature gives us a behind the scenes look at Nick's "surprise" gift of Daisy -- a bundle of cuteness in the form of a maltipoo (sp?) puppy. Unfortunately, the Daisy episodes are not on this disc. In fact, the last ten episodes of the series are missing, which leads us to suspect that they will be released later. So much for that whole "complete" thing.

The one drawback is the lurking prescence of Joe Simpson, Jessica's dad. His creepiness has been well documented (check out this great article about sis Ashlee here). And their yuppie prick friends are sooo boring. But Jessica's self-satire makes up for all that.

Now if she would just get to penning her roman a clef already.

Lhasas make us wanna la la

I'm ready for my close-up