bunnyshop shopping fashion blog

Capelets, And Why We Hate Countess Luann

Can we just say here that we wish we could—actually, everything we're thinking of is too violent, as it involves honey and bees and countesses tied to stairway railings. All we will say is that we're pretty sure we throw up in our mouths a little bit every time Countess Luann has something to say on TRHoNYC. It's our fault for watching the show: We could so easily be watching Law + Order: Criminal Intent, or Shoah, or learning Spanish, or doing more P90X, which believe us, we are completely obsessed with. (Is anyone else doing it? Is Tony or is Tony not the real-life version of Michael Scott? (Tony is.)) She is truly the most horrible woman on our television screen, except for Ann Coulter. At least, she is edited to seem that way. For all we know, she's some sort of Dorothy Parker bon vivant, mumbling her way through absinthe hangovers, and this horrible snobbish nightmare thing is just performance art. We are pretty sure, though, that she is ugly on the inside. (For the record: Her husband is 15 years older than she is! It's a big difference! But it's not a big deal! Jesus!) We need to take a shower. (And it's "my" (i.e., the Countess's) "evening"? It's the cancer victims' evening, you fucking psycho.) Honestly. We're going to sleep at 10 p.m. next Tuesday.

Anyhoo. We will also mention here that we are obsessed with the way that Aussie judge says, "You're like a low-class version of Kate Moss!" Honestly. We don't know how the human mouth makes sound like that. We've practiced saying those words and the only way we can get close is to actually keep our lower and upper back teeth touching. We swear we're going to walk around the neighborhood trying to talk like that.

Too much Bravo. This is all to say: capelets! So adorable for spring, no? Palentine Capelet, $98

Sundance Special: "The September Issue" Review

We thought, given the subject matter, that it would be reasonable to break into our normal coverage for our first-ever Sundance review on this site: "The September Issue," or, as we suggested to our Sundance roommate when we left the screening room, "The Devil Bares Nada." (Ba-dum-dum!) It is the story of the making of Vogue's titular September 2007 issue (the biggest-ever issue of a single-month consumer magazine, etc etc) and how Anna Wintour actually is mean in real life like she was in the Anne Hathaway movie.

Meaner: She does, in fact, actually tell one person (the innocent cameraman, drafted into service during a shoot) he's too fat and that he should go to the gym. Also, Sienna Miller's hair is "lackluster" and her toothy smile not up to Vogue standards. ("And I think these are fillings?") AW basically comes across as a repressed control freak whose overachieving family (including lawyer-to-be daughter Bee) thinks she's useless. The entire process would be heartbreaking if it weren't so often ridiculous, like when ALT shows up to play tennis with Louis Vuitton luggage in tow, or when stylist\model\editor Grace Coddington (easily the film's most likable presence) makes her salad the object of her displaced rage after some of her images are cut, murdering leafy greens with a heretofore-unseen lettuce-murdering vigor.

It's a great documentary, in sense that you're constantly like, How did they get that access? We have no idea why Wintour would be up for this, and the timing seems particularly bad, given the rumors that she'll soon be pushed out for Carine or sent to France on an ambassadorship. It's a little TMI, like when Wintour shows some total Roger Federer mentionitis. ("Did you see Roger won?") The access is amazing: Karl Lagerfeld, Mario Testino, Oscar de la Renta, Stefano Pilati, Vera Wang, Jean Paul Gaultier, and Thakoon all make appearances.

We didn't leave the screening understanding why AW went through all the hassle of being an editor, beyond her story about her father telling her to declare her interest in being the editor of Vogue when faced with filling out a questionnaire about her future. But for anyone who loves looking at pretty things, and is curious about the way the magazine comes together—and NB we work at a magazine, and we're still curious about it—we really wouldn't miss it.

The Gossip Girl Fashion Review

That's Serena being like, "Tinsley-fucking-Mortimer? I feel quite ill."

"Most women only like me for my title. I vowed, next time, to be a common American." Hahahahahaha. We swear we actually started laughing out loud at this point. This whole "Chuck is my true love, I want to go out with a lord" etc etc situation is wearisome.

Chuck's hair should never be styled like this again.

Moving on, our fashion highlights:

Those First Five Minutes of Gossip Girl

Barf, Dan. Barf.

The Most Fashionable Show on Television (at Least Until GG Is Back, and Maybe Then, Too)

Mad Men! We hope you're all watching it. Been a bit slow, these first few episodes, is our opinion, but picking up.

All the horsey looks are so sweet:

The pent-up precision of that tidy yellow bow! Gah!

And then the evening looks—we tried, but couldn't, get a full-length look at Betty's dress for the Lutece dinner.

We're going vintage shopping, like now.

This Week's Style Icon, from Arrested Development

For some reason we're just now getting around to watching the third season of Arrested Development—it's freaking amazing, of course. We usually hate guest stars. We're just like, What are you doing here? Go home. This is especially true when they are big movie starts, who are also blond and tall. (We try to be zen, and we try and try and try.) Anyway, Charlize Theron has made us ashamed of being so prejudiced because she is amazing as Michael's girlfriend. And despite her ... situation, we love how she dresses. Love it, love it.

We mean, we know she's styled all ... quirk-like, but it makes us want to wear wellies and beads and short puffy skirts.

We will probably skip the stuffed animal backpacks.

Reader Mail: The Film Moment

The contest continues! We actually had an editor fire us once—from, by the way, an unpaid job—for opening a story with the verb "continues." That was awesome.

Er, anyhoo: The Jocasi contest does, indeed, continue, with this question. Again, the rules: the post with the most comments wins the prize. Easy peasy.

This one is from M.:

What is your favorite fashion moment from film history?

We had to think about this quite a bit, but our favorite recent fashion moment was actually Leighton Meester wearing a Jennifer Behr headband for TK. She really is, in our opinion, the best dressed character in filmed entertainment at the moment, and when we saw that headband we were just like: How does something so beautiful exist without us knowing about it previously? Historically, we usually go with our inevitable Audrey Hepburn answer—probably Sabrina—but lately we would recommend that movie Priceless for no other reason than the dresses Audrey Tautou wear are unbelievably excellent.
Also, bizarrely, we have perhaps never coveted any accessory so much as we did Scarlett Johansson's Mulberry bag in the otherwise not particularly notable Match Point.
Who else has an opinion? Audrey H. in Roman Holiday? Audrey H. in Breakfast at Tiffany's? Someone with a name other than Audrey?

Television Without Pity: BS Hearts

We are really just writing about this because it's one of the things we think everybody knows and loves as much as we do, and we were just disturbed to discover that this is not the case. To be all confession-y about it, we worked wrote about film for ages, and then we just stopped, because we hated spending all that time in the dark to watch movies we hated. (Life < short.) But we love the filmed entertainment, and so we lavish our attention, whenever possible, on TV rather than the movies: $15 for a ticket? Fuck you very much! Not when we have Battlestar Galactica, and The Wire (4ever in our hearts) and Peep Show and The Closer (our summer fave) and House, the season finale of which we just finally saw and we will so let you know when we stop crying. We are never taking flu medicine, let us assure you of that.

Anyway, whenever we see some particularly affecting television, we race to Television Without Pity, a community of same-minded individuals all crying over the same thing. We love it. It certainly doesn't need our endorsement, having been bought out by Bravo, but that doesn't mean it's lacking the awesome.

It is, for the purposes of our art in this post, also the place where we realized that the song playing over the last, few crushing moments of House was Iron & Wine's Passing Afternoon: video above.

This Is Why We Are Going To Buy Discount Cosmetics Immediately

Bright red lips! This is the poster for The Edge of Love, with Sienna M. and Keira K. Excited to see in general but feeling very motivated in particular to be all about the make-up. Here's a Keira close-up:

We're sure that's been airbrushed to fuck-all but still. Pretty! We'd like to say, we're not investing in this, but we wouldn't mind scouring the drugstore for something suitable. Like: Boots Botanics in Carmella, $8.99   

Sex and the City: Everwhere, Everywhere!

We love Sex and the City for no other reason than this, from Fantasy Moguls, which we only saw because we can't stop reading Perez:

The film business cannot afford to ignore women at the box office when they can rally to create a hit this big. By Monday morning, Sex & The City will be the biggest opening in film history for a movie headlined by a woman, surpassing Lara Croft: Tomb Raider starring Angelina Jolie, which scored $47.7M. It is also important to note that these are not ingenues. Sarah Jessica Parker, Kristin Davis, Kim Cattrall and Cynthia Nixon are all in their 40's. To date, the best opening weekend for a movie with a 40+ actress as the true lead was the 1996 version of 101 Dalmations, which featured Glenn Close.

Can. You. Fucking imagine: 101 Dalmations? We're writing this on Sunday afternoon, and we swear to God we're off to see the film tonight if only to make Hollywood executives realize that women like seeing movies about other women, and even more so when the women on screen are not forced to act like bimbos and morons and girls in bikinis. We can't even write that sentence properly, the whole idea of it is so infuriating. We're not saying we're of the mind that SATC is the apogee of the female experience—but if it opens the doors for others, we're buying a ticket.

And in any case, we want the clothes. For much more—ha! we can't even think of the word that means something like ... "cogent"! that's what it is—cogent thoughts on the clothes from the SATC movie, don't miss Erik Wilson's piece in the Times:

TEN years of watching “Sex and the City,” including the sanitized reruns on TBS, has trained a generation of label- and love-addled romantics not to raise an eyebrow, presuming Botox hasn’t yet made that impossible, when Carrie Bradshaw dons a black Burberry coat and a trilby to go shopping, film noir style, at Duane Reade. Or when Carrie wears a four-figure Nina Ricci sweater trimmed with hundreds of feathers while typing on a laptop in the privacy of her own home.

Ooh, if only. We are typing on a laptop in the privacy of our own home, except we are wearing Old Navy. Ah, the inconvenience of living a non-fictional life. We are all of us in Old Navy, but some of us are dreaming of the feathers. More or less.