Tomorrow, Kirsten Dunst turns thirty-five, and that seems almost impossible; was it that long ago that her character in Interview with the Vampire got a kiss from no less than Brad Pitt? (Later, she said that she thought Pitt had cooties, which might explain something some day.)
What I can’t figure out is why she’s not a bigger star than she is. She has an enviable track record, including Little Women,Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, and various Spider-Man vehicles.
This breezy little yellow number caught my eye — WTF? What’s the deal with those shoes?
When you get as old as I am, you start snickering at the phrase “younger woman”: aren’t they all younger women? Of course not. But I’m long past the point where anyone over 29 seems to have gone to seed.
Of course, it helps if you’re in a position to take care of yourself, as is Christine Lagarde, sixty-one, managing director of the International Monetary Fund, now in her second term despite this little contretemps:
From 1993 to 2008 there was a long legal battle between [Bernard] Tapie and the Crédit Lyonnais bank (partly state-owned bank). Crédit Lyonnais had allegedly defrauded Tapie in 1993 and 1994 when it sold Adidas on his behalf to Robert Louis-Dreyfus, apparently by arranging a larger sale with Dreyfus without Tapie’s knowledge.
In 2008 a special judicial panel ruled that Tapie should receive compensation of €404 million from the French Ministry of Finance, headed by Christine Lagarde. She decided not to challenge the ruling. On December 3, 2015, a French court ruled that Tapie should return this compensation with interest. A few days later, the Court of Justice of the Republic ordered that Lagarde should stand trial for negligence. On December 19, 2016, Lagarde was convicted of negligence; however, the conviction was not deemed a criminal record and Lagarde was not sentenced to a punishment.
The US has been supportive of Lagarde, who has been something of a hardliner in office, but only to a point: for example, as Greece circled the drain in 2015, she called for massive debt relief, but when concrete plans for such relief were not forthcoming, she subsequently declined to assist the Eurozone.
Behold the hardliner:
Looking for brief samples of her voice, I stumbled across this AP squib from the IMF spring meetings — not quite a minute and a half — in which Trump administration Treasury Secretary Steven Mnuchin complains about the US tax code.
I think she just might be sympathetic to the cause.
It’s Courtney Friel’s thirty-seventh birthday, and I suspect rather a lot of folks think she’s still stirring somewhere in the mighty Fox News machine. Um, no. For the moment, she’s the weekend anchor on KTLA, the Los Angeles affiliate of The CW. Then again, as a former Fox person, it is likely that she possesses certain, um, decorative qualities, and no one is likely to mention her BA in Political Science from San Diego State.
I suspect this picture was not taken in Los Angeles:
She’s originally from Philadelphia. Do women from there typically wear flip-flops in the snow?
[L]et us focus on the pant. Yes, pant. I don’t think it can be called “pants” if one half has been deleted. If you’re wondering what it looks like from the back … well, so am I, and she perhaps wisely did not indulge that curiosity. The culprit did at least thoughtfully leave the waistband so that her belt would have a soft place to land, but otherwise this is an extremely clean and almost surgical amputation.
“Forget that,” you show me. “Show me the damn pant.”
Anyway, this is Ryan Destiny Irons, twenty-two, from Detroit, currently appearing in Lee Daniels’ musical drama Star on Fox. Sensibly enough, she’d shortened up her billing to “Ryan Destiny” several years before, and she spent a few years in a girl group called Love Dollhouse.
“Can I” came out in 2014; the group broke up the next year, and Destiny signed a solo deal, though she probably won’t be doing any recording while Star goes on. Still, there’s always the bedroom cover, a staple of YouTube, and in this one, she’s singing Beyoncé’s “I Miss You.”
In the meantime, let’s dress her up a bit:
Apparently wearing half a pair of pants is not something she usually does.
One of the easiest ways to spot so-called “chick lit” on the shelves of your local bookseller: look for an incomplete picture of a woman. The reasoning, I assume, is that you can more easily identify with a character if you only get to see part of her.
The end result is something like this:
TODAY'S BEST MOMENT: i'm sitting on the stoop & a woman walks by and says, hi, u don't remember me, but i was the legs on ur book cover.
Claudia, who turns 79 today, is not concerned about it:
Despite the rumblings in the French press and social media, Cardinale … described the controversy as a “fake row.” Speaking to The Huffington Post, the Leopard star said, “[T]his image has been retouched to accentuate this effect of lightness and transpose me into a dream character.”
She added: “This concern for realism has no place here, and as a committed feminist, I see no affront to the female body. There are many more important things to discuss in our world. It’s only cinema.”
Through more than 140 films, she’s played plenty of dream characters, some of whom might have seemed awfully down to earth.
I have to figure this was the inevitable fate of the woman who won the title of “Most Beautiful Italian Girl in Tunisia” at nineteen, and who appeared in many Italian films before she ever learned to speak Italian well.
(Mr Johnston is a cultural historian at University College, London. The title here is a reference to Claudia’s character in 1963’s The Pink Panther.)
Her family named her Kim Yu-jin, but for most of her life she’s been simply Uee, and you might think that one does not adopt a name shorter than Cher’s without some attitude slipping in. I’m not seeing any myself. I’d mentioned yesterday that she’d had a solo hit in 2011, and there were others, but most of her musical career has been spent as a member of the girl group After School.
“First Love,” whose title would seem to belie its pole-dancing imagery, sold over 600,000 copies for After School in 2013.
And Uee’s a far better singer, or actor, or dancer even, than she is a pitcher:
The sort of person who sends me a link to something like this can be safely said to, um, know me entirely too well:
A young man Kanan (Suraj Sharma) returns to India from Canada to marry his long-term girlfriend Anu (Mehreen Pirzada), but comes to know that as he is a manglik (born under an unlucky star) he has to get married to a tree before getting married to her. He very reluctantly marries the tree, which is duly chopped down after the completion of the ceremony. As a result, from that day onwards he is haunted by the spirit of a woman named Shashi (Anushka Sharma), who lived in that particular tree and hence claims to now be “married” to him.
In Hindu astrology, Mangal Dosha is an astrological combination that occurs if Mars (Mangal) is in the 1st, 2nd (Considered by South Indian Astrologers), 4th, 7th, 8th, or 12th house of the ascendant chart. A person born in the presence of this condition is termed a manglik.
It is believed to be unfavorable for marriages, causing discomfort and tension in relationship, leading to severe disharmony among the spouses and eventually to other bigger problems. This is believed to be caused due to the “fiery” nature of the planet Mars, named after the Roman god of war.
There is a belief that the negative consequences for a single-manglik marriage can be resolved if the manglik first performs a ceremony called a kumbh vivah, in which the manglik “marries” a banana tree, a peepal tree, or a silver or gold idol of the Hindu God Vishnu.
Her first release in 2017 is Phillauri, which doesn’t seem to have anything much to do with famed Hindu writer Shardha Ram Phillauri. There is, however, a lot of poetry, and, as mentioned before, a wedding to a tree. This being Bollywood, there is also a lot of music:
The U.K. Daily Mail is in hot water with for running a photo of UK Prime Minister Theresa May and Scottish First Minister Nicola Sturgeon that included the two political leaders’ legs.
May and Sturgeon were sitting down and gabbing in Glasgow about Brexit (most Scots oppose) and Sturgeon’s hints that Scotland could declare independence if May lets the Brits go ahead with their desire to leave the EU (she has). Both ladies, despite their sharp political differences, were attired in the kind of stylish and elegant professional-wear that female politicians in Europe do so well and that female politicians in America ought to aspire to. Both outfits included knee-length pencil skirts that, as we females all know, ride up a few inches above the knee when the wearer is seated.
But while it should be mocked, parodied, ridiculed, it should terrify us: because it is indicative of what is happening in Brexit Britain…
But there is something far more sinister about this front page. Britain is now in the throes of a national counter-revolution. Thought Brexit was all about Britain’s relationship with the EU? It wasn’t even just about immigration. While millions who voted leave had multiple, complex reasons for their choice, the most bigoted elements of British society decided that the referendum presented them with a mandate.
And farther up the umbrage scale:
Amelia Womack, deputy leader of Britain’s Green Party, formally reported the Daily Mail to the country’s press regulators, the Indepedent Press Standards Organisation, accusing the tabloid of violating a code provision stating that editors must “avoid prejudicial or pejorative reference to an individual’s race, colour, religion, gender, sexual orientation or to any physical or mental illness or disability”.
There is no doubt that both women consider their pins to be the finest weapon in their physical arsenal. Consequently, both have been unsheathed.
May’s famously long extremities are demurely arranged in her customary finishing-school stance — knees tightly together, calves at a flattering diagonal, feet neatly aligned. It’s a studied pose that reminds us that for all her confidence, she is ever the vicar’s daughter, always respectful and anxious not to put a foot wrong.
Sturgeon’s shorter but undeniably more shapely shanks are altogether more flirty, tantalisingly crossed, with the dominant leg pointing towards her audience. It’s a direct attempt at seduction: her stiletto is not quite dangling off her foot, but it could be. “Come, succumb to my revolutionary allure,” she seems to be saying. “You know you want to.”
The message to the Scottish electorate is clear. They have a simple choice: on the one hand the reliable, measured, considerate and cautious politics of Mrs May and the safety of a Union that has endured for 300 years — on the other a wild, dangerous leap into the unknown, a glorious moment of rebellion which could all too easily lead to a lifetime of regrets.
The exact balance between political metaphor and outright leer is left as an exercise for the student.
In the best, or at least the blandest, of all possible worlds, this tempest would never have breached the boundaries of its teacup.
I’m sorry, but I thought Sturgeon and May, legs, stilettos, and all, looked great. They demonstrated that middle-aged women can look as attractive as their younger counterparts without sacrificing their dignity, professional appearance or age-appropriateness in dress. As I said above, American women politicians could take a leaf from their book. And isn’t it nice that you can still be regarded as objects of “sexism”?
And I might point out that if you don’t want people noticing your legs, wear a long full skirt. So take a chill pill, outraged feminists.
Jane Powell, I am delighted to report, is still with us today, her 88th birthday. She’s been performing for more than 75 years; before she was 13, she had a singing gig on a radio station in Portland, Oregon, making music and selling Victory Bonds for the war effort. (Yes, that war.) She was Suzanne Burce back then; in 1943, after winning a talent competition, she auditioned for Louis B. Mayer of MGM, was signed to a seven-year contract, and was promptly loaned out to United Artists for the lead in the 1944 musical Song of the Open Road, not at all related to the Walt Whitman poem of that title, playing a child star named, um, Jane Powell. MGM thought this name was swell, and before the film was even released, assigned her the stage name “Jane Powell.”
Those movies didn’t reflect reality. I was at MGM for 11 years and nobody ever let me play anything but teenagers. I was 25 years old with kids of my own and it was getting ridiculous. Publicity was froth. Everything you said was monitored. With me, they didn’t have to worry. I never had anything to say, anyway.
She did, however, have things to sing:
The Girl Most Likely, a 1958 RKO picture, starred Jane as a girl who wound up engaged to three guys. Capitol issued no single from the soundtrack, though I remember “I Don’t Know What I Want”. She did have one hit single: a cover of Cole Porter’s “True Love,” from the soundtrack of High Society (1956), where it was sung by Bing Crosby with a couple of words from Grace Kelly.
Jane’s recording (Verve 2018) charted at #15, not bad at all for a one-hit wonder, but nothing was going to beat der Bingle, who claimed the #3 spot.
Jane Powell was married five times, the last time to child star turned PR man Dickie Moore, whom she met in 1984 while he was writing Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star: (But Don’t Have Sex or Take the Car) They had 27 years together, from 1988 until Moore’s death last year.
Roberta Anastase, born on this date in 1976, served as the first female President of Romania’s Chamber of Deputies, from 2008 to 2012. She was a member of the Democratic Liberal Party, which held 115 of the 334 seats in the Chamber. In 2009, the Social Democratic Party, which held 114 seats, withdrew from the governing coalition; the government subsequently fell in a vote of no confidence, though Anastase held on to her seat until 2012.
Before all this political stuff, Anastase represented Romania in the 1996 Miss Universe competition, though this took some time on the pageant circuit:
Peripheral note: Before you ask: 1996 was the first year that Donald Trump (remember him?) owned the Miss Universe operation; he is no longer connected to Miss Universe.
I vaguely remember my grandmother having a bottle of this stuff:
At the time, I hadn’t a clue as to what it might be for, and I don’t think I was any more enlightened after her slow-English-plus-fast-Spanish-swearing explanation. But I was very young then, and my glands weren’t secreting, or something.
Of course, now I recognize it as a wartime substitute for the silk stockings you could no longer buy. And, typically of wartime substitutes, it wasn’t particularly good:
According to a woman’s magazine at the time, “The best liquid stockings available will deceive no one unless the legs are smooth and free of hair or stubble. Leg makeup will mat or cake on the hairs and make detours round the stubble and give a streaky appearance.”
It occurs to me that perhaps present-day spray-tan products aren’t a whole heck of a lot better.
Leeza Gibbons has been on television almost as long as there’s been television to be on, or so it seems sometimes: in her 60 years (as of tomorrow) she’s hosted several hit shows, including one bearing her name. She even had a nice, long run on the radio, and she’s done dozens of informercials. Her latest gig: co-hosting the Rose Parade on New Year’s.
And in 2015, she won Celebrity Apprentice:
The best part of that, perhaps, is that she defeated Geraldo Rivera.
The thing about Bai Ling, I think, is that she’s cheerfully exhibitionistic without being prurient about it: she may be trying to turn your head, but she doesn’t seem to be trying to turn you on. (At the ripe old age of 50, this is a perfectly reasonable stance to be taking.)
She’s also not much of a singer, but this hasn’t discouraged her in the slightest. From 2012, her single “Tuesday Night 8 PM”:
These photos are from the last 10 days or so of her Twitter feed.
This one is below the jump, in case your sensibilities are subject to outrage by such things:
We should have spent the weekend celebrating Christina Grimmie’s 23rd birthday. One of a very few YouTubers who made the jump to the Big Time, she appeared in season four of The Voice and finished third; Usher, one of the many who were impressed, dubbed her a “baby Céline Dion.” She wound up with a recording contract and a devoted fan base.
Florida authorities answered one of the major questions in the shooting death of Christina Grimmie, the 22-year-old singer who made her name on NBC’s “The Voice.”
The man who killed her was Kevin James Loibl, 27, of St. Petersburg, Florida, according to Orlando police. But they didn’t give any background on Loibl or offer a possible motive.
Loibl, tackled by Christine’s brother Marcus, turned the gun on himself. It was subsequently concluded that Loibl was obsessed with her and at one time had hoped to win her affections, although one has to wonder how he was going to do that with a Glock 9mm.
And two nights later, another madman opened fire on The Pulse nightclub in Orlando, killing forty-nine.
This was Christine’s very first YouTube video, a cover of “Don’t Wanna Be Torn” by Hannah Montana:
There will be one last release, an EP titled Side B (there already has been a Side A), due later this month. This is the first single:
Singer/songwriter Lisa Loeb, forty-nine today, is probably best known for her trademark eyeglasses, which she eventually developed into a full line of designer specs. She’s also recorded 13 albums.
Her 1994 single “Stay (I Missed You)” was played over the credits of Ben Stiller’s film Reality Bites, and eventually climbed to the very top of the Billboard Hot 100, despite the fact that Loeb didn’t have a recording contract at the time.
Ethan Hawke, who lived across the street from Loeb in those days, was the one who talked Stiller into buying her song for the film soundtrack; he also directed Loeb’s music video.
I frankly find it hard to believe she’s 49 years old. Must be the glasses.
Which stands for “Australian-born confused desi,” an epithet sometimes used on Vimala Raman, the most successful Australian actor — she was born in Sydney — in Indian cinema history. She doesn’t seem so confused to me; India produces motion pictures in five different languages, and after some forty-odd films, Vimala speaks them all. What’s more, she studied the Bharatanatyam dance, and has a degree in, um, Information Systems from the University of New South Wales.
Don’t even think about dubbing that denim in the middle picture “Desi Dukes.”
The topic, originally, was the humdrum light bulb, and the conversation went something like this:
“My major objection to the Compact Fluorescent,” I said, “is that if you drop one you have to call in the hazmat people.”
“To be honest,” she replied, “I dropped one once, and cleaned up the area myself. I don’t think there was any stray mercury, and I didn’t suffer any ill effects. Except, of course, for the extra head.”
I did something between giggling and guffawing. “Let me know if you add an extra arm or two.”
“I thought you were more interested in legs.”
She’s got me there, I had to admit.
Shortly thereafter, I remembered this little viral photo:
Cush Jumbo will brook no mockery of her name, which was bestowed on her by parents Angela and Marx Jumbo. (She’s British; he’s Nigerian.) She’s thirty-one and has quite a CV, including her own play Josephine and I, about jazz singer Josephine Baker:
She’s also done film and television, including the last season of CBS’ The Good Wife, which led to a role in CBS’ current streaming series The Good Fight, from the same producers.
Unsurprisingly, she’s promoted herself and her series on CBS talkers, including this weird encounter with the Late Show’s Stephen Colbert that descends into Synchronized Shakespeare:
Clearly someone worth watching for the next three or four decades.
Joan Blondell first appeared on stage in the winter of 1906-07, aged four months. (She was an infant in a cradle; she had no actual lines to learn.) Fortunately, no one remembered her, so when she decided to strike three years off her age, changing her birth date to 30 August 1909, there was no outcry.
In 1930, she starred on Broadway with James Cagney (!) in the short-lived Penny Arcade, which lasted long enough to be her ticket to Hollywood, where it became the feature film Sinners’ Holiday. This was before the Production Code, so Blondell found herself playing some occasionally salacious roles.
Did I say “salacious”? Here’s Joan with Barbara Stanwyck in Night Nurse (1931), in which there’s an awful lot of lingerie on display:
Blondell died on Christmas Day 1979; her last appearance was in the 1981 The Woman Inside, playing the perplexed aunt of a Vietnam vet who’s contemplating sexual-reassignment surgery. Not at all salacious, of course.
Tahliah Debrett Barnett was tagged with the nickname “Twigs,” supposedly for her creaky joints, something you don’t expect in a slight-ish woman of twenty-four. When pop duo The Twigs complained, she adopted the tag “FKA twigs,” though she denies the prefix stands for “Formerly Known As.”
It’s not that you couldn’t tell them apart, either. FKA twigs sounds like nothing you’ve ever heard before, and is quite unapologetic about it:
“When I first released music and no one knew what I looked like, I would read comments like: ‘I’ve never heard anything like this before, it’s not in a genre.’ And then my picture came out six months later, now she’s an R&B singer. I share certain sonic threads with classical music; my song ‘Preface’ is like a hymn. So let’s talk about that. If I was white and blonde and said I went to church all the time, you’d be talking about the ‘choral aspect’. But you’re not talking about that because I’m a mixed-race girl from south London.”
My own favorite twigs tune, perhaps because it’s fearfully intense while still keeping its distance, is “Two Weeks,” which, like “Preface,” comes from her first LP, LP1. “Two Weeks” made it to #42 on the Billboard dance chart.
Yes, boys and girls, it’s true: Vanna White, she who has turned the letters on Wheel of Fortune for the last 35 years, has just turned sixty. It took me a few moments to remember that Vanna was the second letter-turner for Wheel; Susan Stafford did it first, from 1975 to 1982, and for one week in 1986 while Vanna was mourning her fiancé, who was killed in a plane crash.
From time to time, she’s done non-Wheel stuff, but her main gig has kept her in yogurt and yarn for all these years, and there’s no sign it’s going to get away from her.
Oh, and there’s this little artifact from 1987. I still have the 12-inch single:
It’s Valentine’s Day. Why don’t we hear anything about Karen Valentine anymore?
Well, she’s not working as hard as she used to. Her most recent credit was opposite John Larroquette in a 2004 Hallmark Channel movie, Wedding Daze, directed by Georg Stanford Brown, who appeared in an episode of (yes!) Room 222, the series that made her famous. A long way from Walt Whitman High, perhaps, but aren’t we all?
I did learn that at five foot four, she’s about two inches taller than I thought.
A lot of the vintage pictures of Karen have turned up in this five-minute video thing:
The first half of that was a B-side by the Surfaris (“Wipe Out”) that later was recorded by the Beach Boys for a TV series called Karen, which was not Karen Valentine’s 1975 series Karen.
If you, like me, tend to think of Christina Ricci in terms of Wednesday Addams, you will flinch, as I did, when you hear that she’ll be thirty-eight tomorrow. What she won’t be, however, is any taller:
Christina Ricci says she doesn’t think she’ll ever be a major star because she’s too short. “I don’t think that’s ever going to happen for me,” the Black Snake Moan star tells Premiere. “I’m five-one first thing in the morning, and I tend to look really small on camera. I can probably go as far as Holly Hunter went, then I think that’s going to be it. I have a feeling I am way too small.”
Of late, she seems to have opted for blondness. She still does a good disembodied voice, though: you’ll be able to hear her as Terra in Teen Titans: The Judas Contract, due later this year, and if you don’t want to wait that long, you can hear her in bite-size (sorry) segments in Beck’s 2005 record “Hell Yes.”
Marie Prevost made 121 pictures in her abbreviated career, some of them bordering on great: she got excellent reviews in the 1922 The Beautiful and Damned, though F. Scott Fitzgerald didn’t like her; Ernst Lubitsch thought enough of her to cast her three times, most notably in Three Women; she had the lead in Howard Hughes’ The Racket. What all these had in common was a lack of a soundtrack; she proved capable in talkies, but she had other problems. One of those problems was Howard Hughes; Marie was already depressed and drinking a bit, and a brief affair with Hughes made things worse for her. In the 1930s, she was both drinking and overeating.
In the 1970s, British rocker Nick Lowe turned out a song about Marie, which proved to be something of a stretch, particularly the chorus: “She was a winner / Who became a doggie’s dinner / She never meant that much to me / Poor Marie.” This untimely demise was described by Kenneth Anger in Hollywood Babylon; it is true that after she died in January 1937 — it was two days before her body was found — that her dachshund had bitten her on the legs in an attempt to rouse her, but the little hound wasn’t that hungry.
Prevost’s plight did have one positive outcome: Hollywood stars and executives would forthwith create the Motion Picture (later, “& Television”) Country House and Hospital, a place to care for ill stars and nonstars. The facility was operational through 2008; after some dollar-related crises, it has since reopened on a firmer financial footing.
Your assignment today, should you choose to accept it, is to figure out Gabrielle Anwar’s character in the Showtime series The Tudors, which despite its title was all about Henry VIII.
Give up? Here’s the scoop:
The character of Henry’s sister, called “Princess Margaret” in the series, is actually a composite of his two sisters: the life events of his younger sister, Princess Mary Tudor, coupled with the name of his elder sister, Margaret Tudor. This was reportedly done to avoid confusion with Henry’s daughter, Mary I of England.
Then again, it’s not like they were going for Absolute Historical Accuracy in the series.
Gabrielle Anwar’s most recent major role was as Fiona in Burn Notice.
And you may remember her tango-ing with Al Pacino in Scent of a Woman:
Suzanne Pleshette was twenty in 1957 when she made her theatrical debut, in Meyer Levin’s Compulsion. (Her film debut, the following year, in Jerry Lewis’s The Geisha Boy, might have been a tad less prestigious.) It was generally accepted that she could do Just About Anything, up to and including a couple of voices for the English dub of Hayao Miyazaki’s Spirited Away.
This last is a still from Nevada Smith, from 1966, in which Suzanne is a Cajun girl working in the Louisiana rice fields and is here carried off by Steve McQueen. (Just About Anything, remember?)
A lot of us, though, remember her as Emily Hartley in The Bob Newhart Show, and, unexpectedly, in the last scene of another Newhart show entirely. She explains how this came to be:
And “this,” of course, might have been the greatest last scene from a situation comedy in the history of the universe:
Suzanne Pleshette, alas, is no longer with us; she died of respiratory failure in 2008. She would have been 80 today.
“Today to get the public to attend the picture show
It’s not enough to advertise a famous star they know
If you wanna get the crowds to come around
You gotta have glorious Technicolor
Breathtaking CinemaScope and stereophonic sound.”
I’m not aware of any way stereophonic sound will improve the looks of your legs, but CinemaScope is happy to step up:
Of course, they have to work in a reference to the film they’re pushing:
“New, slim-whip seams and fashion-trim heels spell total glamour in “true-life” colors … that show him it’s a woman’s world.”
Which would seem to contradict the actual film poster:
“It’s a great big wonderful Woman’s World — because men are in it!”
Doesn’t sound like he was exactly shown, if you know what I mean.