Posted by: jrostewart | February 11, 2009

Give us your poor, your tired, your …talentless socialites?

ohpeaches1Trans-Atlantic famegamer, Peaches Geldoff is back in the gossip pages this week as a result of her impending divorce from musician Max Drummer. The dissolution of the 19-year-old mouthy Britt’s marriage with her barely famous husband is just another disaster in a long line of bad press Peaches has accrued since immigrating to Brooklyn. After she was ridiculed for her short-lived column in Nylon, her reality show on MTV was canned, and the plug was pulled on her magazine, Disappear Here, one would think she would have disappeared into flannel shirt anonymity with the rest of her hipster pals.

But not this little British tart. Although Peaches would like you to believe her split from Drummer was amicable, “After much soul-searching we have made a mutual decision to end our marriage and have agreed to go our separate ways. Our parting is amicable and both of us still respect and care about each other immensely. There were no other people involved in this decision and we both look forward to a future as good friends” (Sunday Times), rumors swirling around the gossip pages about her getting cozy with another lady at a loft party in Bushwick and her new love affair with Donald Cumming lead me to believe otherwise.

I was particularly interested in this story because one of my favourite past times is following the blunders of British hot messes like Amy Winehouse, Lily Allen, and Lady Gaga. However, I rationalize this guilty pleasure to myself and anyone who catches me on thelondonpaper.com by explaining how the Brit’s only lavish unwanted attention on these girls because they were talented. Not like here in America, where rich daughters of hotel empires are idolized for no reason other than their waif-ishly thin bodies and famous last names. Enter Peaches Gerdof.

Imagine my excitement at a fresh, cheeky Londoner coming to NYC to conquer the publishing world. I thought to myself, “Of course those uptight English snots moaned about her snarky remarks about her peers and her hard partying ways, but hell, I was talking trash and no one cared, and I falling down drunk at 19 and I couldn’t even get served in bars yet! How can I blame her?” Now, one failed attempt at legitimacy after another, imagine my disappointment when I realize Peaches is just another talentless socialite hack with a quirky name and a jones for rocker boys and bad press. She just couldn’t cut it with the Brits and relocated to the land of opportunity, and we have embraced her and each one of her exploits with open arms. But hey, I’m still writing about her and every time someone does, she gets a little more famous. Well done Peaches, well done.

Posted by: jrostewart | February 3, 2009

Two Eggs Are Better Than One

baby-twins-400This week was a slow week in NYC celebrity gossip. Everyone’s so obsessed with Super Bowl ads or Michael Phelps toking up with a bunch of strippers that they forgot to write about something interesting. Fortunately, Page Six identified a disturbing new trend among New York’s elite power mommies – multiples, and no, I’m not talking about the kind of multiples that elude just about every woman I know. Close though. According to Page Six, New Yorkers have taken a hint from Brangelina and realized birthing kids the old fashioned way (one at a time) is so last century. Let’s face it – babies are a status symbol, but who has the time for all those long, drawn out pregnancies? And not to mention the time it takes to work off all that excess baby weight. Instead, these multi-tasking divas are begging their fertility docs (sex, apparently, is passé too) to try to make two or more of those little eggies stick. Medically speaking, carrying more than one child at a time greatly increases the risks associated with pregnancy such as miscarriages or premature deliveries, but until someone can invent a way to delivery babies in less than three weeks with a minimum of a 20 pound weight gain, what other choice do these women have?

What I’m wondering is, “Who picked this Angelina Jolie lifestyle choice out of all of Angelina’s bizarre lifestyle choices as the one to rip-off?” Why weren’t women across New York making out with their androgynous siblings? Why didn’t Billy Bob Thornton auction off viles of his blood on Ebay? Why haven’t we seen more women showing up to charity events looking like Morticia Adams? Well, I’m no physicist, but I can tell you this – When it’s my time to loose my little bundle of spit up, errrrr, joy upon the world, I’m paying a down-on-her luck piece of trailer trash to do the dirty work just like Tina Fey from Baby Mama. I’m keeping stretch marks and varicose vein where they belong – on the lower-middle class.

Posted by: jrostewart | January 27, 2009

Fashionista, Society Girl, and Literary Enthusiast Pens Novel

82351966AR010_Preen_Front_RFashionista, Society Girl, and Literary Enthusiast Pens Novel

Move over Devil Wears Prada and make room for the next fashion-centric novel reportedly being penned by none other than Vogue’s associate editor and FameGame climber, Stephanie Lacava. Lacava recently helped to found the Edmond Society, the younger, hipper daughter of the PEN American Center, an international literary and human rights organization. In fact, the Edmond Society Affair, which took place in October, turned out to be a star-studded event that touted celebrities ranging from Maya Angelou to Common to Mary-Kate Olsen.

According to the Gawker, Lacava has decided to put her passion for literature into action and write her own piece of fiction, which seems to blur the lines between her own life experiences as a privileged, WASP-y teen growing up in France and that of her “fictional” main character, Madeleine “Maddy” Stevens. An excerpt from the novel is available on the Gawker. The excerpt, which takes place at a make-believe Marc Jacobs show, is choc-full of references to seasonal color palettes and exclusive designers. If the rest of the novel follows suit to the section available on Gawker, Lacava will clearly be fulfilling her intentions behind founding the Edmont Society – making literature more accessible and interesting to her socialite peers.

However, the same imagery and references that are capable of making this fashionista-fiction hybrid interesting and inventive are also dangerously capable of making this book pretentious and inaccessible to anyone who doesn’t reside on Madison Ave. People have loved and embraced Sex and the City or Lipstick Jungle because it makes the fantasy lives of upper-crust Manhattanites seem within reach. (Ask any chick you know which character she would from Sex and the City…I bet she answers before you have a chance to finish the question), but the excerpt from Lacava’s piece felt stiflingly snobbish and her attempts at sentimentality felt cold and unaffected. I understand that Lacava may be taking a stab at doing something with more substance than a Candace Bushnell novel, but if she doesn’t watch her step what was intended to be ground-breaking will end up being dismissed as a gimmick.

To be fair, the excerpt was only a page and a half long, so we’ll have to wait and see if this novel has the capability to reach the average Jane (particularly not the Joe), but the appeal to upper-crust stylistas is clear. Even if the novel turns out to be a flop, hats off to Lacava for giving it a shot and raising awareness for an art form that one would think goes unnoticed to a class of people who seem more obsessed with Manolo’s than the latest Murakami novel. And hey, if it is a success Lacava’s work could no doubt send her into the New York fame stratosphere above and beyond what her over-sized, black framed glasses and success at Vogue could have ever hoped to accomplish.

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