maggiealderson

Archive for the ‘Actors’ Category

Seven Days of Positive – Day 117

In Actors, FIlms, Hot Men, Men on February 9, 2015 at 12:14 am

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I did something absolutely brilliant today, but I can’t tell you about it yet, as it’s for an article to appear on High50.com, a website I contribute to. As soon as it’s up I’ll post the link (with added highlights).

In other news, I continued the mother/daughter film festival with Peggy. She chose Walking On Sunshine, which I wasn’t very excited to see – but boy did I have a nice surprise.

His name is Guilio Berruti.

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I think he’s the most gorgeous man who has ever lived. Seriously, the most beautiful ever. He’s just perfect. That body, that face – and blue eyes?

He also has a very appealing on screen presence, not in any way lessened by him spending most of the film in swimwear. See here.

Mother and daughter fell in immediate love. It was hilarious. Every time he came on screen we clutched each other and squealed, probably entirely inappropriately, but it was great fun.

Here are some more pictures of him.

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Here he is in some kind of doublet and hose feature.

imagesL9Q1EUEWAnd here, dead casual like, in jeans and a parka, getting a coffee, no doubt, like the Italian dude he is.

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Working a pair of shades.

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Looking adorable in a duffel coat.

images2Signor Darcy in a cravat arrangement.

nakedStruth! He’s naked!

Screen-Shot-2014-06-02-at-10_57_45And again. These shots were taken for for an Italian safe sex campaign (not a homoerotic calendar).

He was the big attraction of the film, but I was surprised how much I enjoyed it. There’s no denying it’s an unapologetic Mamma Mia copy, right down to the summer loving beach setting, but instead of the heinous music of ABBA (I looooooooooooooathe ABBA), it’s based around fabulous 1980s pop hits.

Girls Just Wanna Have Fun. If I Could Turn Back Time. Holiday. Wild Boys. Wake Me Up Before You Go Go. And the one and only Eternal Flame.

Every track that came on Peggy yelled ‘Oh, I love this song!’ and I had to stop myself saying some dopey old person thing like, ‘Ah, yes I remember this playing in every shop and bar in the East Village in 1983…this was my soundtrack to the summer of 1982…I danced to this with George Michael, when I interviewed him in 1984…

I thought I showed great restraint, but I held back because I wanted watching the film to be an experience for us to share in the here and now, not make it all about my memories of the olden days. I’m glad I did. I quietly enjoyed remembering those times, without having to bore her with it.

If you just want a couple of hours of completely undemanding, pure sugar entertainment – with a white hot lust object – this will hit the spot.

(As you will see in this clip, he even has alluring armpit hair.)

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Seven Days of Positive – Day 111

In Actors, Food, Friends, Scotland on January 28, 2015 at 10:26 pm

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Gosh so many jolly things have been going on, I’m getting behind.

I had an utterly top weekend last weekend which I must talk about before it’s this weekend.

On Saturday afternoon I went to the neighbouring town of Rye, which is one of the quaintest and most delightful in the whole of the UK.

Henry James lived there for eighteen years in elegant Lamb House, where he wrote The Awkward Age, The Wings of a Dove, The Ambassadors and The Golden Bowl.

Rye

After him it was home to EF Benson who wrote the Mapp and Luccia books there, inspired by the view from the bay window. They have recently filmed a new TV version of it in the glorious cobbled streets.

After dropping Peggy at a friend’s house, I discovered a wonderful lingerie shop (not new, but moved to a more prominent location on the High Street) called Pearl & Siren, where they sell the most gorgeous selection of undies – across a very wide range of sizes.

The lovely owners are highly knowledgeable and totally got it when I vented my frustration at the way the prettiest styles in bigger cup sizes look lovely from the front, but when you turn to the side you realise you resemble the figurehead of a galleon. I can’t bear it. With my limited height, I look completely out of proportion.

‘Ah,’ said one of them, nodding. ‘You have to avoid the ones with three seams, then.’

She then produced a selection of brilliant options for me. This is a shop that deserves a leisurely visit for trying on and consideration, with pleasant chat and I didn’t have time – and husband waiting in the car, which the killer of all relaxed shopping – so I’ll be going back. Although I did snap up a perfect underwired sports bra by Wacoal, which is what I like to wear for everyday.

On Saturday night we went for a glorious dinner, with friends who keep a most generous table. The wine was simply amazing, although it always tastes better when served by a butler…

I had some of the most interesting and entertaining conversations I’ve had for a long time, which you would expect when your dining companions include a member of the House of Lords, an MP, a concert pianist and someone who works for the United Nations.

My brain felt as though it had had the kind of work out you have daily when you work on a newspaper, which is something I still keenly miss about those days. In my working life now the only person I have to talk to is myself, which is the one downside of being a full-time author.

With Peggy at her sleepover, Sunday morning gave me the very rare chance to lie in bed and watch a film I’ve been longing to see since before it even came out: Dallas Buyers’ Club. It did not disappoint.

What an amazing story and it cemented Matthew McConaughy as my favourite actor (see earlier post on Magic Mike). He and Jared Leto, who played transgender character Rayon, so deserved their Academy Awards for Best Actor and Best Supporting. I was enthralled.

The deathbed scene of one of the characters (non spoiler) made me sob, bringing back the memories of the amazing friends I lost in those awful early days of AIDS. Never forgotten.

Sunday was Burns Night – the annual Scottish tradition celebrating the birthday of the great Scots dialect poet Robbie Burns. Haggis is served, with great ceremony, the Address to a Haggis is recited, the haggis is stabbed with a dagger, then eaten. Whisky is taken.

It’s a marvellous to do and while a lot of people are disgusted by it, I love haggis and its mashed tatties and neeps accompaniement – as I’m genetically programmed to do, with my seven eighths Scottish blood.

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We went to a very jolly Burns Night party to raise funds for the Bare Foot Opera company. The tartan was worn – that’s my friend Wendy above in her heather garland (shame I didn’t get a better background, but I had to snatch the chance) and her husband Lesley was in head to tea of the plaid – and after dinner was eaten and the appropriate poems had been recited and various airs played and sung, there was dancing.

Proper Scottish reeling, which is one of my absolutely very favourite and marvellous things.

At St Andrews, university balls were always centred around reeling and I’ve hardly had the chance to do it since I left, which is a shame because it’s great fun, good exercise and, when done properly, so romantic. You feel like a character in a Jane Austen novel.

I will never forget dancing the glorious Reel of the 51st Division – a very complicated one, created by members of the regiment in a POW camp in the Second World War – with a particular partner one night in Scotland very long ago…

Another highlight of the weekend was reading all your brilliant suggestions and comments regarding my reading drought. I found it interesting how much overlap there was.

It’s going to The Miniaturist next.

Seven Days of Positive – Day 71

In Actors, books on November 27, 2014 at 11:45 pm

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Today was a day of some weirdness. I won’t go into the details because it concerned someone else, not me, but I was trying to help patch it up.

But although it was weird and A&E and the police were both involved it may, oddly, lead to something good. It was shocking, but I have a little shoot of optimism about the outcome.

In other news I woke up to the most wonderful email telling me that my children’s book, Evangeline the Wishkeeper’s Helper – which was shortlisted for the Prime Minister’s Award a couple of years ago – is going to be published as a paperback next year.

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Yeehaw!

The first edition was a most glorious hardback and when I heard they weren’t going to reprint it in that form, I thought that it was it for my dear little elephant.

I thought she was going to end up back under the bed talking to dust balls, in book form, just as she was in toy form at the beginning of the story.

I was also pleased to find out it’s available as an ebook, which I hadn’t been aware of. (I’m a moron.)

http://www.penguin.com.au/products/9781742533964/evangeline-wish-keeper-s-helper

The other fun thing today was watching Love Actually on the telly with my daughter.

Although I had to quickly fast forward every time it came to a bit about the porno stand-in couple, which I never thought enhanced the film. They should have cut them, they didn’t add anything.

What I didn’t know was that during Hugh Grant’s first entrance – out of the official car, into Downing Street – she was secretly filming me, as I howled like a wolf. Which is what I have to do the first time I see Hugh Grant in any film.

I love him more than I can express with my human tongue and have to resort to my animal totem to get my feelings over.

She put it on Snapchat.

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I think I’ve used this on here before, but I don’t care. Some things never get old.

The light fantastic

In Actors, FIlms, Men, Uncategorized, Writing on February 2, 2014 at 7:07 pm

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I heart Matthew McConaughey. Not for his abs and his chest, but for his acting.

In fact I didn’t get the point of him when he was in all those dopey rom coms and had felt sorry for him right at the start when he was posted on the cover of Vanity Fair as the second coming, as it seemed an impossible introduction to live up to.

And after a few years of meh movies it seemed like the inevitable had come to pass and that he was fading away into another sad Hollywood used-to-be as he got too old to pull off the romantic lead.

Then I saw Magic Mike and fell in love with him as an actor.

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I absolutely adored that film – for many reasons, many of them unprintable – but it was McConaughey’s clear pleasure at not being the prime beefsteak in that film which was such a joy to watch. He got to play the old guy, the not entirely likeable one and he did it brillllllllliantly.

I deeply lust after Tatum Channing, but it’s McConaughey’s character I quote from that film.

‘That’s what I’m talking about…’ has gone into my lexicon.

So it was thrilling to see him then segue into a run of really interesting roles where he can flex his thespian muscles rather than his biceps. GQ mag has labelled his come back into proper parts the ‘McConissance’. I can’t wait to see Dallas Buyers Club.

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And nowI have another reason to love him. There’s a really good profile of him in the colour mag of the London Telegraph. I normally find interviews with actors total snore-a-thons but this one is full of fascinating stuff – and there was one bit in particular which made me drum my feet on the floor with delight.

They were discussing the first part of his career, when he was really only hired as the eye candy. The male va va va voom. Does he have a problem that he wasn’t taken ‘seriously’ as an actor? No, sir.

This is what he said:

“I said, ‘Hey, do my good looks help me along? Absolutely. Does the fact that my body is considered good and we’re gonna have me up there in a shirtless scene help it along? Sure.’ I didn’t ever go, ‘No, no, no.’ I was like, ‘Yeah! I get that. That’s fun. What’s the big deal?'”

Then we get to the bit I really love…

“If you go deep with the romcom you sink the ship. There’s a buoyancy to the frequency of romcoms. To be light [my italics] is critically always looked down upon – it’s willowy, it’s wispy, it’s nothing. You know what? It’s f***ing not easy to do and a lot of people don’t do it well. A lot of the work in those things is to stay buoyant. To say, ‘Hey, get offa my cloud, man! I’m dancing between the raindrops!”

This speaks exactly to how I feel when people tell me that the books write are ‘chick lit’ ‘fluff’, or ‘dressed up Mills and Boon’, all of which has been said to me by total strangers (usually at drinks parties, when they’ve asked me what I do…) .

I try not to let it bother me, but it does. I have no aspirations to write ‘important’, ‘serious’, or ‘literary’ works. I want to entertain, to distract – to make other people feel the way my favourite books make me feel.

So thank you Matthew McConaughey. I’m not writing ‘fluff’, I’m dancing between the raindrops.

perfect-rainbow

Eight pairs of shoes…?

In Actors, Celebrities, Shoes on June 28, 2013 at 7:13 pm

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I was gripped by an item I saw this week on the Daily Mail’s website in which Emma Watson says she has only eight pairs of shoes. Eight!

The comment was inspired by her glimpse into Paris Hilton’s actual wardrobe, which the heiress allowed Sofia Coppola to use in her film The Bling Ring, starring Watson and based on the real-life spate of robberies of Hilton and other young LA celebrities, by a group of spoilt teenagers.

Despite being in command of her own £26 million fortune, Watson was astonished by the sheer volume of designer gear Hilton had – much of it unworn, tags intact.

It’s ‘consumerism as a form of kleptomania,’ said Ms Watson, who is clearly as smart as someone accepted by both Brown and Oxford universities should be. Almost as smart as Hermione Granger.

But back to the eight pairs of shoes… EIGHT?!?! I’ve taken that many on holiday with me – and then I bought two more while I was there.

I’ve got so many pairs of shoes I honestly don’t have a clue how many there are in total. I think I will count them, out of interest, but not right now – I’ll get back to you with that number. Meanwhile I’m doing a mental tally, to see how I square up with Hermion-emma.

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Quite a lot of my shoes are in permanent storage on top of a cupboard. There are at least six pairs of really old vintage treasures up there – the oldest from the 1920s – which I bought at jumble sales in the 1970s. Haven’t worn them for thirty years, but can’t part with them. Too special.

There’s also quite a collection of really fabulous (and generally rather camp…) serious designer shoes that I don’t wear any more, but which – along with the vintage ones – I’m saving for my daughter (probably condemning her to size 12 feet in the process).

And out of for nostalgia. I don’t want to forget the season of the Prada d’Orsay pump…oh, happy days in Milano. I bought two pairs. Impossible to walk in, but such things of loveliness.

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The next level in my shoe hierarchy are the ones I wear occasionally and like to keep around, just in case and because they’re also beautiful objects to look at. But when I do a rigorous inventory of the shoes I really wear, it comes down to just over twenty pairs, which quite surprises me.

So then I start to wonder, when Emma W. said ‘shoes’, did she mean absolutely every pair of foot covering items she owns, or just ‘proper’ shoes?

Was she discounting her practical utility footwear which, in my case, includes Havaianas, Converse, Nike neoprene mesh trainers, Ugg boots, Hunter wellies, snow boots and espadrilles? Some of them in more than one colourway. Well, all of them actually, except the snow boots.

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Then there are my two most-worn  pairs – the annual Birkenstoks (this year’s are apple green patent) and my 20-year old conker brown RM Williams riding boots – which both sit somewhere between utility and proper shoes. Do they count by the Hermion-emma standard?

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And how about my Sperry deck shoes and purple suede Fairmount driving shoes? Cowboy boots?

I don’t think any of them can be classed as ‘shoes’, as in feature accessories. They are necessary life aids and iconic items which everyone should have acquired by my age. So if we agree on that, this leaves two more categories of real shoes: day wear and evening. Both of which are subject to seasonal adjustment.

For winter day I’ve got my 15-year old Paraboot brogues, navy brothel creepers, patent loafers, black RM cuban heels, black brogue ballerinas and pointy black Prada pumps.

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For summer day it’s Sambag snakeskin ballerinas, smart espadrille wedges and red patent glamour slides.

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For evening and best I have vintage croc pointy pumps, very special woven leather Prada pointy pumps, gold Prada sandals and glittery Repetto tango shoes. I’m not showing off, I’ve had all of them for yonks. I look after my footwear diligently, with shoe trees, re-heeling, toe taps etc and they pay me back in years of wear.

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So now I’m thinking, did Emma Watson really mean she only has eight pairs of shoes for this season? As in the fashion season.

Working on the latter calculation, I’ve only got one pair of shoes I bought for this summer: divine lilac Sperry nubuck oxfords with fluoro pink and rope sandwich soles.

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I feel better about that now.

How many pairs of shoes do you have?

Mary Berry meets Hugh Jackman

In Actors, Men on February 4, 2013 at 10:37 am

Mary and Hugh

One of the things I like best about blogging is the comments. Just like on Twitter, I love chatting to people I haven’t met yet – it’s like being at a global cocktail party – and I really love the great TIPS you give me.

In the past 24 hours Caroline has told me that if you blast your eyelash curlers with a hairdryer before using them, you get a much better curl which lasts longer. In a similar vein, Tracey warned me off having my eyelashes permed, because hers had a ‘weird scrunched’ look after.

Then Lisa told me about this…  Mary Berry and Paul Hollywood on Graham Norton’s New Year’s Eve show last year with HUGH JACKMAN. Shall I shout that again? HUGH  JACKMAN and Billy Crystal and John Bishop.

This can only be filed in the drawer marked TV Heaven. Look at her in the picture above with her hand on his knee… I didn’t think I could adore her more, but I do now. Here’s the clip.

And then because he is just utter heaven, here is a whole lot more of Hugh on the show. He’s funy too. Oh my LORD.

Rule: The exceptional proves the rule

In Actors, FIlms on January 16, 2012 at 3:22 pm

Happy New Year and all that. What are you looking forward to? *

On my list of anticipated highlights is the film The Hunger Games, adapted from the book of the same name, which I think (from watching the trailer on Youtube) looks like a gripping adventure riffing on the culture of reality TV.

It doesn’t open [in Australia] until March but allow me to introduce here its lead actor Miss Jacqueline Emerson, who is just seventeen years old, yet already rocking that photo opp moment better than many more seasoned celebritines.

Of course she may just be getting great advice, but the secret is taking it. There are so many actresses of established fame who still haven’t worked that out, but this teen either has serious style of her own, or the nouse to know when to listen up to those who do.

I can’t find a single niggle to make about this picture. Not even the way she’s standing in it. You wouldn’t believe the number of shots I look at each week, where the subject is slouching like a slummock, or – worse in my opinion – working the beauty queen’s ‘Pageant Stance’, with one turned out foot placed in front of the other. Emerson is fully posing here, but in an upbeat, natural, let’s do this thing way. I love her.

On an older person I might have got a bit snarky about the undone hair, on a teenage girl, j’adore. I would have hated a tortured bridesmaid’s up do on that young head.

The balance of the accessories is also spot on. The asymmetry of a bangle, which is so often wanting, a little punctuation mark at the throat and a sparkly hard case ‘minaudière’ clutch bag. The shiny gold shoes are properly dressed up and fun – and not exactly the same colour as the dress, which would have been so dull.

On someone else – someone older – that little bit of contrasting lace at the neck could have seemed a fussy detail. I’m not actually sure if it’s part of the dress or some kind of a slip, but on a girl of Emerson’s age it’s modest and sweet.

It also gives the outfit a bit of a retro 80s hit, which is spot on for her generation, for whom the 1980s is the signature reference. There’s an adorable little hint of Molly Ringwald about it, which is really pleasing because with that gorgeous hair colour, that’s who Emerson is reminding me of. (See The Breakfast Club, below. Oh, how it all comes flooding back…)

And the hair/dress combo is the number one reason I love Emerson’s look. None of us are ‘supposed to’ wear clothes the same colour as our follicles. I’ve certainly avoided beige most of my life for that reason. And redheads in particular, as discussed in a previous outing, are subjected to the most stringent restrictions regarding the entire warm end of the colour spectrum.

So Jacqueline Emerson is breaking both those rules, in fine style, and looks like she’s having a great time doing it, as all cool teenagers should. Bring on the movie.

* This first appeared in the Sunday Age, M section, on January 1, so sharing it here for all readers of Sun-Herald (back in there on January 29th) – and anyone else who’s interested.

I am wearing a great Cloak of Shame about not having done anything on here for ages (crazy busy finishing a book, which was all consuming…) but hope to get back to regularity… it’s my New Year’s Resolution.

High 50: Can a real man wear a cardigan?

In Actors, High 50, Men, Style icons on November 7, 2011 at 11:47 am

 

Here is the link to last week’s column on High 50. Couldn’t post it soon as I’ve been hidden away at a friend’s internet-free beach house putting in some serious work on a book. It’s not finished yet, but I am 14,000 words to typing those heady words ‘The End’, so that’s marvellous.

http://www.high50.com/archives/shopping/mission-11-being-a-cool-dude-in-a-cardigan

As an added bonus, here are some choice pics of Sean Connery wearing the baby blue towelling playsuit that was forced upon him in Dr No. What were they thinking? And what did he say when they first presented it to him?

Of course, he manages to carry it off – would you look at those brown hairy legs? McWOOF.

 

High 50: holding your own at a 20-something wedding

In Actors, FIlms, Grooming, Hair, High 50 on October 26, 2011 at 10:26 am

Mission: how do you rig yourself out when everyone else at a party is going to be half your age?

Obviously your first response would be: ‘I’m not coming.’ It was certainly mine when my husband showed me the invitation to the wedding party of one of his colleagues and his new bride – who is also a fitness instructor.

I could immediately picture it: acres of firm young flesh – and me. The horror the horror.

But not going for that reason would be rude and wrong. You have to go. And you have to make an effort with your outfit too. Because arriving at a wedding party without looking done up is even ruder than not going.

So you have to try – just not as hard as any of the twenty somethings who will make up the vast majority of the other guests. This might be the only aspect of the evening that will be easy, as they will all have made a massive effort. Most of it dedicated to wearing as little as possible. How to look good naked – with a dress on.

There will be acres of young skin on display, much of it taut and toned. All of it spray tanned. In fact there will be no part of these people that hasn’t been chemically enhanced in some way, from the transfers on their toe nails (the new pedicure option instead of nail polish, they stay on for a month) to the hairspray on their backcombed crowns, with swathes of false eyelashes and lip gloss in between.

Really, the level of cosmetic application currently considered normal by young women is at levels not seen since the early 1960s. You’ve seen them on X Factor, made up like Danny la Rue for daywear, it’s incredible.

Dusty Springfield was an eye make-up cop out compared to this generation. Three layers of false eyelashes is not considered extravagant – if you haven’t had ‘Hollywood Lashes’ stuck on semi-permanently at a beauty salon.

The best response to all this, of course, is not to compete, but to wear your usual best going out make up look – i.e. everything you normally use, but more of it, plus that lip gloss you never wear because it sticks your mouth shut – and to have really great hair.

You can achieve the hair ideal of our generation in an hour, by going pro for a sleek and bouncy blow dry, or – buy a Babyliss Big Hair blow drier.

This miracle gadget is the greatest invention for women since the contraceptive pill (and the rampant rabbit). It’s a hair dryer with a rotating large bristle brush attached, so you can blow dry your own hair to near salon results, while finishing the crossword with the other hand. It’s like having your own personal Warren Beatty (Shampoo era) that you can plug in and blow out any time you need a barnet boost.

The trick is to use John Frieda Luxurious Volume spray on towel-dried hair, then dry to just damp with a normal hairdryer, with your head turned upside down, to give plenty of volume at scalp level.

Then, pin up the top ¾ of your hair with those big plastic clips hairdressers use and dry the lower layers, working your way gradually up the strata, turning it under or out, as suits your style. The perky little brush turns either way – you just push the button the opposite direction with your thumb, so simple.

Pay special attention to sleek-ify-ing the crown, parting and hairline, then hey presto, a done do. There’s a really good demo on Youtube showing you how http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vBFF0_iVsdY I also found this independent (amateur…) one useful http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dilkavI5_Xo&feature=related

It’s really astonishing how professional it looks and more importantly, you’ll feel swishy. Because how you feel – as opposed to how you look, which we never really know about ourselves – is what matters for an occasion like this.

So rather than worrying about whether you should go long or short, trousers or dress, black, sequin or jolly print, just do your hair and wear the party outfit that you always feel good in.

And if that includes high heels you can walk in, you’ll be way ahead of most of the other guests.

Rule: all white is tricky

In Actors, Celebrities, Famous people, Fashion shows, FIlms, Weddings on June 23, 2011 at 9:52 am

The white dress is a big fashion trend right now. In particular the white lace dress, which made the Dolce and Gabbana runway for this fashion season look like a cross between a convention of oversized girls taking their First Communion and a granma underwear parade.

But I can see the appeal. It’s a fresh idea and a welcome and witty change from the Little Black Dress to the Little White Dress and lady slebs have embraced it keenly (left to right: Kate Bosworth, Anne Hathaway, Blake Lively, Diane Kruger, LeAnn Rimes).

But there are very good reasons the LBD has become one of the all-time fashion classics. It suits everyone, is very forgiving, doesn’t show where you’ve accidentally dripped your dinner down the front and is generally hard to get wrong.

The only way you can really stuff up an LBD is to overaccessorise it. Or drop a lot of yogurty dip down the front.

But a white dress, which is the equivalent of carrying around a bill board saying ‘Hey! Look at me!’, takes a lot of chutzpah to carry off. Also a lot of dry cleaning. And a lot of control underwear, because any kind of white fabric is completely relentless about showcasing the tiniest boofle of flab. As you’ll know if you’ve ever spent time on a treadmill behind someone working out in white gym leggings.

The other risk with the white dress is of looking like you’ve lost your way on the way to the wedding reception. You may be surprised to hear that Elizabeth Olsen (sister of the more famous twins…), seen above, is not leaving the ceremony after just marrying the dude in the sand shoes.

He’s Sean Durkin, the director of her new film ‘Martha Marcy May Marlene’ and this is the two of them at its Cannes showing. (The film, a thriller about a girl getting out of a religious cult, sounds interesting and he won Best Director for it at Sundance.)

This bridal appearance becomes a risk when, as Ms Olsen shows here, you opt for a demure, full-length floaty version of the white lace dress. All that’s lacking from this picture is the lily of the valley bouquet. She’s even got veily things going on in her hair.

The other way to wear the white lace dress, to shift it from Here Comes The Bride, to The Girl Can’t Help It, is showcased here by Uma Thurman, also at Cannes, with fellow jury members, Jude Law and Robert de Niro.

Ms Thurman’s Versace frock is crisp Broderie Anglaise, rather than Olsen’s much more bridal soft lace and its fierce cut is worthy of Mad Men’s Joan Holloway.

Look at how she’s standing – caramba! – but it would be impossible not to sashay in a dress like that. It would also be impossible for most normal human beings to pull it off.

So that’s the challenge of the white lace dress. If you want to make sure you don’t look like a 21st century Miss Havisham, or a prissy 1960s bride (Rachel McAdams below, left), you’ll have to be up to looking like Uma Thurman.

I think even Uma looks a bit bridal in her all-white Chanel couture and Versace red carpet numbers, also at Cannes, below.

And I’ve put these pics in just because I love the body language between Uma and Robert de Niro. They so obviously had the best time judging together.

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