Spring in Manhattan

Lest you think that we were idle during our hiatus, darlings, let us assure you that we were not. In addition to tending to our familial duties (and we thank you, sincerely, for your public and private messages of support, inquiries of concern, and all-around sweetness), March flew by in a whirl of nightclubs, theaters, restaurants and cocktail dens. Lunch at The Modern! Drinks at King Cole Bar! Dinner at "21"! Late night cabaret at The Oak Room at the Algonquin! It's a glamorous job, but somebody has to do it.

TJB and escort paint the town pink.

We kicked off the month by catching Marilyn Maye in her debut at Feinstein's at the Regency. Let us preface this by admitting that Feinstein's is our least favorite room in town, and, in all honesty, we've seen and heard the marvelous Marilyn do much better shows, and in better voice.

MARILYN MAYE: Still marvelous.

It's a testament to her brilliance, then, that even when fighting against an awkwardly-arranged room; a crowd for whom "hip" is usually associated with "replacement," rather than being "in the know"; and the unusual-for-Maye occasional misstep in song choice; this 82-year-young dynamo still puts across an act which is better than any other cabaret or nightclub performance you're likely to see by any other performer in this lifetime.

THEN AND NOW: Hair and lashes, still fabulous.

The Maye faithful have religiously followed her annual appearances at The Metropolitan Room downtown, appearances hallmarked by not only Maye's now-legendary chops and professionalism, but also a brilliant, laser-like precision in sequencing, formatting and execution. Her programs are not only master classes in singing, but in song choice and placement. But even when gamely giving a "newbie" audience a greatest hits, throw-everything-at-'em-and-see-what-sticks repertoire, Maye, as always, has the ability to create magic. A deliciously sensual "Lazy Afternoon" was sublime, seguing into Blossom Dearie's sexy, soulful "Bye Bye Country Boy." The latter is quickly becoming a Maye signature, along the lines of Murray Grand's terrific soap operetta, "Guess Who I Saw Today." Maye has sung that song so often, she could probably do it in her sleep and still be effective; thankfully, she's the 100% committed pro that she is, and totally devastates the crowd each and every time.

Forever and always a showstopper.

Other highlights: Steve Allen's lovely, little-heard "I Love You Today" (from MM's 1965 debut album for RCA); the glorious roof-raiser "Golden Rainbow" (the title song from Steve and Eydie's infamous 1967 Broadway show, and another favorite from Maye's RCA catalog); Sondheim's "Being Alive" cleverly bookended by Schwartz and Dietz' "By Myself"; Maye's now-famous seven-song-strong Cole Porter medley; and Porter's exuberant "I'm in Love Again" interpolated with a gorgeously-sung "I've Got a Crush on You" by the brothers Gershwin. The incomparable trio of pianist Tedd Firth, drummer Jim Ekloff, and bassist Tom Hubbard played their buns off, and added greatly to the evening's musical high points.

Did we mention that we've MET the legend herself? TJB, MM and SSUWAT's dear friend, Drew.

"I Love You Today"? Even in a less-than-perfect room, and with a slightly flawed program, Marilyn Maye has our affection forever and a day. And, thanks to the auspices of our darling friend Drew, we managed to sneak backstage after the show; and La Maye even remembered meeting us a few months before, or was sweet enough to pretend same. We left floating on air, high on the scent of her perfume and the lingering deliciousness of her talent. Later this week: reportage on performances by Dame Edna and Michael Feinstein; KT Sullivan and Mark Nadler; and Joyce Breach and Sir Richard Rodney Bennett.

Life is a cabaret!

What Are You Doing New Year's Eve?

Although in our fantasies our plans look a bit like this...


...the reality will most likely be a pint of Haagen-Daas and our sweatpants. And, quite honestly, we're actually sort of looking forward to peace and quiet. What are your plans, possums?

Muff Monday

Dive into fashion.

Sunny One So True...

...we love you!

Out of Fashion

The Model as Muse exhibit at the Met.

A dud.

For one thing, the concept was perplexing (models influencing fashion? the cart before the horse?); and the execution did nothing to convince one of its validity.


It started off promisingly enough, with a mannequin wearing the black-and-white Dior gown worn by Dovima in Avedon's famous "elephants" shot; the spectacular draped Mme. Gres gown worn by Sunny Hartnett in another iconic Avedon portrait; and some really beautiful Balenciaga creations. But, aside from the famous Dovima and Hartnett poses, there was no clear correlation between the clothing and the supposed muses, aside from a few vintage Vogue and Bazaar magazines behind glass (which, bafflingly, usually had nothing to do with the clothing on display alongside it... DV, no stickler for authenticity she, would have done wonders with this concept!).


However, the couture garments from the 1940's and 1950's are so stunningly constructed, they were worth looking at, no matter the context. Unfortunately, they comprised the smallest part of the exhibition, the larger part of which was made up of 1960's-2000's fashions, which simply failed to register the same impact. The Generation Gap: a wall of "supermodel" covers from the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issues, versus the images of Dovima, Jean Patchett, Dorian Leigh, Lisa Fonssagrives, et al., on the covers of Vogue and Bazaar.

There was also a "supermodel" portrait of Patrick Demarchelier which clearly was an "homage" to the classic Cecil Beaton shot of the House of Dior's models posed in the atelier, 1957. And that's one of the problems with this show -- everything past the 1960's (or even the 1970's, if you want to be generous) references the past, or has a post-modern irony, or is in "tribute" to something else. No originality. The fact that these more recent decades make up the bulk of the exhibit left us wanting to hop a plane to London, for the Victoria and Albert Museum's exhibition honoring the true masters of couture. 

And there was certainly no originality or style emanating from the crowd of poorly-dressed onlookers posing alongside Dovima's Dior gown and cut-out elephants, chewing gum and fanny packs firmly in place as they took their MySpace and Facebook cel phone photos. For them, this was surely the height of fashion. As for us -- well, we were un-a-muse-d.

THANKS