You can't glam up Depends

Yes I am going there. You all know I never allow unpleasantness to stop me from talking about anything, and female stress incontinence is not a pretty or glamorous subject. Having suffered from it since my baby was born (he's almost sixteen now), I finally decided to 'fess up to actually having a problem and resolving it.


Now normally I only believe in having surgery that makes you prettier. I'm just shallow that way, and you know it and love it or you wouldn't be here to start with. I have done weeks of research on stress incontinence at this point and all I found were boring medical articles filled with big words and painful sounding solutions. So the Diva is going to break it down from a real girl's standpoint and hopefully give you real information as we go hand in hand through this oh so ikky problem.


I started having retention issues right after having a baby. A big huge baby with a big huge head. Vaginally. Thank you assholes at Cigna for not giving the go ahead for a C-section. That's pretty sad when an obstetrician even gets on the phone with you and begs for authorization. Lucky for you my son was okay. Sadly my urethra was apparently mangled with all that pushing.


I found that for the next sixteen years I went to the bathroom about twenty to twenty five times a day and not just to reapply lip gloss. I couldn't run or jump without embarrassing myself. I finally mentioned it to my gynecologist and she gave me a pamphlet on Kegal exercises that was just chockful of great advise. Like this:


"Find a quiet place like your bedroom or bathroom. Sitting in a modified lotus position, close your eyes and imagine a marble. Now imagine you want to pick it up with your vagina."


Now imagine yourself explaining to the nice emergency room doctor why you have a marble so far up in there. It's okay, he's heard all sorts of crazy shit and I promise won't even crack a smile. Personally if I have to imagine picking up anything with my vagina it's either going to be Viggo Mortensen or those to die for Louboutin leopard platforms.




















Wow. That's a toss up. Viggo or Louboutin.....Men come and go, but leopard is forever. I have many shoes that have lasted way longer than any of my relationships and sure 'nough have made me way happier. The shoes it is! Sorry Viggo...you'll just have to go back to Idaho and write a strange and obscure poem about our almost relationship.

So I spent years Kegaling, which did eventually lead to me getting a really cute husband.No silly, I didn't pick him up that way! I got him the old fashioned way; on the Internet. Unfortunately I still couldn't run, jump, or sneeze; which wasn't too terrible. Believe me, it's totally possible to not do these things if you don't have to.

However it all ended for me last November. As much as I work out, I don't do things that involve jumping or running in place. But for some reason I decided to take a kick boxing class one Saturday morning after spin class. Things were going great until the jumping jacks. After the first few enthusiastic hops I found the only thing I could do was clamp my knees together and pray nothing hit the floor. I pretended to do the rest of the routine. I never knew I could fake jumping jacks; I'm sure I looked ridiculous with my clamped together knees and rictus of a smile. As soon as we moved to the next steps I was out the door to the bathroom. Thankfully nothing was showing on my light gray shorts and I headed home immediately.

That's when I had to get real. I've mentioned it jokingly to my girlfriends before. We've all had experiences at this point with leakiness and can certainly agree that aging is hell. But screw that, I work hard to stay in size 25 jeans. I have not tortured myself with exercise, starved, and had everything else lifted and tightened just so that I can run around in Depends. Maybe twenty years from now, but I want a few more years of sexy. And sexy is not hearing plastic crunching under your True Religion's. Unless they start making Depends look like thongs or lacy I am not wearing them.

Actually I wouldn't wear them if Prada made them. I am not wearing diapers. So off I went to the urologist.

Let me give you a quick insight on living in a small town. It sucks. Not because it's dull, but because you know everyone and see them all over town. This includes people that do embarrassing things to you. I assumed I would go talk to the urologist and he would take notes; then we would magically go to surgery and never see each other again.

And I was wrong.

First we had to prove I had stress incontinence to the insurance company and this involved a series of tests. Horrible tests. Tests that involved me naked from the waist down, two women, tubes in orifices that have never been explored, and a bladder that had to be filled to the explosion point with saline solution. All of this while stone cold sober. Let me give you good advise here--If you should ever have to do this make sure you are high as a kite beforehand. If you can get your teen or someone else's to get you some Oxycodone, then do it. There is no need to suffer; I already did it for you.

Here's how it went down. First I emptied my bladder into this Pyrex glass vessel that was hooked up to a computer. I thought we were done at this point. Wrong. Then I hopped up on the table and that's where everything started going terribly wrong. The first tube went in my urethra. Awful! But it gets worse. The next tube went in the back entrance. They explained why, but at that point I was so horrified I tuned them out. Then they slowly filled my bladder with saline to see at what point I needed to go to the bathroom. Not that I could, we needed to fill it up to the pain point and see when I would start leaking. Next we moved the tube in my urethra in and out slowly to take pictures of something, who knows what. All I could focus on was the fact that my purse was across the room and I had a full bottle of Xanax in it. I was dying to ask the lady moving the tube in and out if she could let go of my labia for a sec and hand me my purse, but I was just beyond speech. For once. Finally I got to waddle across the room trailing tubes like an alien and sit on the potty while they took readings of the volume of liquid I was holding in for dear life. Finally they left the room so that I could release and not a moment too soon! I felt like a freshman on spring break. But the good news was that I had passed! I have urinary incontinence really bad! Yeeeaahhh for me! But it's all good. I have the girls on my Christmas card list now since we are all so close and everything. Nothing like sharing a traumatic experience to bond folks.....

I can't believe they had to put me through that to prove I pee my pants. I would have just as soon gone over to the TriCare office, drank a glass of water and done a few jumping jacks.

Now I have surgery scheduled for February 10th. I'm having a procedure called a midurethral sling. Basically this means that my urethra is going to spend the rest of it's life in a hammock with a tiny drink with an umbrella. Listening to Bob Marley. Okay, that's just how I picture it. From what I've read my doctor is going to use some sort of Gortex like mesh to create a support system for my hypermobile urethra. Apparently mine runs around all over the place and this sling will keep it in place. The surgery is done on an outpatient basis, it takes about ten minutes and then I'll go home later that afternoon. I won't be able to work out for a few weeks, and I am dreading the first time I go back to spin class. I'll be posting the after effects, but don't expect pictures. I'm a little nervous, but not so much about the surgery. What makes me nervous is that my surgeon is sort of cute in a non-doctory sort of way and it is going to feel really weird having him see me without pants on. Luckily I'll be unconscious when it happens, so it won't be unlike most of the dates I went on in my life.

Have I ever mentioned that I am so glad to be married and not have to be out there anymore?

Hopefully I've given you all information you can use. Please be thinking about me the week of the 10th. I'm looking forward to a good week of narcotics and reality television, and yes I do recognize the irony of that....

Love and kisses,

Cult Diva

Scents and Scentsibility

Ahhhhh. Scent. How could I possibly enter a room without being buoyed by a breeze of heavenly scent? How could I possibly exit without leaving a wake of sillage for you to remember me by? Every highlight of my life is accompanied by a scent memory. Mention an event in my life and I can tell you what perfume I was wearing. Here's a bit of advise: never wear big booming florientals when you're giving birth. I had on Estee Lauder's Spellbound the morning I went into labor and it almost killed me. The scent, but the labor was pretty bad too. Had I known that was going to be the day I would have chosen a much lighter and greener scent, something like Calyx. I love scents created by Sophia Grojsman, but her Spellbound was suffocating me in the delivery room. Probably everyone else as well.


I have a scent bar in my bathroom with all my current favorites available. My husband swears when he is in the bathroom he always feels like a perfume girl is going to pop out from behind the shower curtain and spritz him. I lurk on all the perfume blogs and consider it a tragedy that I won't get to try all the scents I want in my lifetime.





It's an indecent obsession I know, but it could be worse. What if I had allergies? What would become of my collection??

My scent memories started early. My first perfume memory actually was the taste of it instead of the scent. For some inexplicable reason I gargled a bottle of my mother's cologne, and even though I don't remember the smell, I do remember the taste. Unlike most little girls I never went through a Tinkerbell stage. My mother was a recreational shopper, so I got to spritz good perfumes on my baby self fairly early. I do remember J.P. Allen on Peachtree street having a perfume fountain set into the wall of the store's foyer and you could anoint yourself with what ever scent they were featuring. Maybe I need one of those in my foyer....

Though my mother had a few perfumes, her signature scent was Nina Ricci's L'Air du Temps. Tragically this classic scent was reformulated with synthetic ingredients in the late 1980's and bears no resemblance to the light and lovely composition created to embody the new spirit of post WWII Europe. "L'Air du Temps" is one of those subtle French euphemisms with a dictionary of nuances, but it translates loosely to "spirit of the era" or when something is so of the moment that it actually becomes a symbol of it. God love the French, they're so subtle even they don't know what they're actually saying. But they do make some wonderful scents. The lovely crystal bottle created by Lalique was topped by twin doves symbolizing hope and peace.

I don't remember my grandmother having a favorite scent. She was a lipstick person and at any time might have thirty or more lipsticks taking up residence in handbags and pockets. She did sell Avon products later in her life and their scent line was the first I ever memorized. She and I would play a game of "name that scent" by giving base note hints and making the other person figure out which scent contained them. Looking back I realize she must have had a "nose" also or she wouldn't have been able to do this. It must be a strange genetic gift, if I smell a scent I never forget it.

My passion to acquire designer perfumes begain early. At a time when friends were dousing themselves with Love's Baby Soft, I was after my first bottle of Halston. Another classic that has been rendered unrecognizable by reconfiguration, the original created by Bernard Chant was marvelously sophisticated. Especially on a seventh grader. I also loved Charlie, the highly successful Revlon scent. Who didn't want to look like all American leggy Shelley Hack, clawing her way up the corporate ladder and discoing all night? Plus it was cheap! Since the modern career women it was geared toward were only making about .60 cents to a man's dollar, they could actually afford to buy it for themselves. It still smells good today, my mother has a friend that wears it as her signature scent and it's wonderful.

Remember Babe by Faberge? Good old girl Jerri Hall hawked the hell out of this scent. It was Charlie's slutty sister. You still can find a bottle here and there on Ebay, but Unilever (owns Faberge now) has no plans on bringing it back.

Let's take a quick hustle down 70's lane favorite perfumes: Chloe (Karl Lagerfeld's version, not Stella McCartney's cheap fabric softener scent version), Coty's Muget du Bois, Jovan Musk, and Cachet. I think Cachet probably set me on the road to preferring chypre/floral mixtures.

A word about chypre. This is for my non-perfume whore friends. Sadly I have found that none of my friends are perfume obsessed. However, I am working on it. One by one, I am dragging them to the scent bar and forcing them to try on things. God knows I have something for everyone in there.

Anyway back to chypre. First of all is pronunciation. It's "Shee prah", not shypree. Chypre refers to scents that are resinous, warm, and earthy. They frequently contain bergamot, oakmoss, amber, patchouli, and often are described as incense like. Chypres are the demimonde of the perfume world, they are scandalous but never straight up trashy.

Which brings us to the '80's. Everything was so over the top, including the scents. I'm surprised anyone wore perfume after this decade; I felt like I had a perfume hangover when it was over. It started out good. Remember Ralph Lauren's first scent, "Lauren"? Gorgeously green and fresh, if debutantes had an odor, this would have been it. This scent too has been reformulated and now is a pale ghost of it's former glory.

As we strode into the mid-eighties with our huge hair and shoulder pads, the scents became even more aggressive. My theory is that all that coke numbed our noses until the only thing we could smell were some of these boomingly loud fragrance cliches of the times. Here's a sniff before we go-go: Fendi, Poison, Red, Obsession, Giorgio, Opium, Samsara, Magie Noir. All beautifully crafted scents, but remember walking into dance clubs? The combination of these scents, plus Everyman's Polo, was enough to knock anyone out. I do love that Obsession is making a comeback and using Eva Mendes as it's muse. Perfect! She looks dated and is certainly old enough to have worn it the first time around.

Sadly, some scents did not get the recognition they deserved as they were a bit too reserved to flash themselves around. If you get a chance to waft a little of Guerlain's Jardins de Bagatelle over yourself then by all means do so. Created in 1983 by Jean Paul Guerlain, it is an overlooked masterpiece. Balmain's Ivoire also was a quiet classic. Clean, green, and a little soapy; it was totally trampled over by the big girl scents. I also adored Rocha's Byzance, which disappointingly ended up in T.J. Maxx's bargain bin.


The '90's were defined for me by some unusual scent accords. Two of my favorites of that era were of course Angel from Thierry Mugler and Lolita Lempicka. If you're a perfume junkie, stop and remember the first time you smelled Angel. And smelled it again. Then misted your wrist and wandered around sniffing yourself. Amazing. Created in 1993 by the perfume legend maker Olivier Cresp, I must say this is the all time seductress of perfumes. Described as an "oriental gourmand" scent, it has a unique undertone of dark rich chocolate that grabs you and won't let go. Whenever I wore Angel, men followed me around in droves. Something in that scent signaled "sexy" and "has some sort of candy on her". No wonder most of the men were under 18...

I also got more into Sophia Grojsman scents. She did the fabulously fresh Calyx for Prescriptives in the '80's, another good perfume that didn't make you smell like a cocotte. She did a perfume for Karl Lagerfeld called "Sun, Moon, and Stars" that was unique and also Boucheron's Jaipur, which was so fabulously exotic. I would have to consider her possibly one of the most versatile of the famous perfumers in this century. A majority of my favorite perfumes have been created by her and they are all completely different in mood. From the ethereal Eternity, to the elegant White Linen, and then the controversial Outrageous! from Frederic Malle.

I tried some of the other big releases of the '90's too. Dolce Vita and Champs Elysees were two favorites. Guerlain's Champs Elysees took a horrible beating from the critics, but I thought it was pretty in a candy flowery sort of way. For me it was a nice break from all the big scents I normally wear.

I began to appreciate the classics more at this point. Fracas made a place on my perfume shelf. The '40's iconic scent was created by the great Germaine Cellier and is right up there with Joy, Chanel No. 5, and Shalimar as a serious Diva with a capital D scent. Fracas instilled a love of tuberose based scents in me and is still the only perfume I wear during the vernal equinox. I'm serious. Perfumes have a season, a clothing style, and even activities. It's hard for me to believe that some women wear the same scent no matter what season, ensemble, or time of day they are in. Fracas does not smell correct in any season for me except spring, and even then it depends on the heat index. This is one of the few classic French scents that has been reformulated to meet EU standards and still smells fabulous. You can thank Pierre Negrin for that, in fact you should send him a card for pulling this off considering the stringency of these draconian edicts for perfume.

On to the new millennium! I think this is when the niche and boutique scents began to call me. I have become jaded on the big perfume houses. It's easy to create a blockbuster scent when you have a huge budget and can hire the Christopher Sheldrakes or Calice Beckers to formulate it. But I wanted to try some fresh and new takes on olfactory satisfaction, so I branched out a bit.

Black Phoenix Alchemy Labs is one of my favorite seriously inexpensive perfume companies. I love, love, love their website: http://www.blackphoenixalchemylab.com/ It's all very gothy vampire Aldous Huxley, Aubrey Beardsley. They make sexy, romantic, original perfume oils with wonderful names and stories. If you have nothing else to do, spend a few hours on their site. All the oils are handcrafted, plus cheap, cheap, cheap. Lust is one of their oils I cannot live without. It smells like sex in a Catholic church. Frankincense, myrrh, and pheromones; what could be more sacreligious that that?

Frederic Malle perfumes are too beautiful for words. The epic Carnal Flower is the most original tuberose scent ever. How do you describe this scent? It smells like blood and juicy fruit gum, but in a great way that only perfumistas can relate too. Lys Mediterranee is much more accessible, it is a fresh lily scent that smells of flowers and sunshine ala Riviera.

I like some of the Bond No. 9 scents, namely Madison Soiree. For me it takes up that space in my heart where Lauren (the original) used to reside. It's demure and buttoned up. Very Charlotte from "Sex in the City". I wear it when I don't want men panting after me.

Which means I clean house in it.

Now my favorite two slutty scents of the moment are Agent Provocateur's Maitresse and Lancome's Magnifique. Agent Provocateur produces some wonderfully sexy lingerie for the under 100 pound set and sexy perfume for the rest of us. If Maitresse was a person, it would be Dita Von Teese. It's sexy, yet not pole dancy. It teases and insinuates. My husband liked it so much that he didn't shit himself when he worked out the exchange rate price from AED to dollars. I found that when he tried to work out the math I could confuse him by leaning my Maitresse soaked cleavage his way. This is some powerful voodoo perfume! Magnifique is Lancome's latest offering. It is just a big old classic FM perfume. I just can't figure out why they used Anne Hathaway as the face for it. She's gorgeous and young; this perfume needs a much more sophisticated person as an image. I can't see many 20 somethings wearing this one. It's a lot like their fabulous but discontinued classic Magie Noir; it's a scent for a woman with a past. It's dark and mysterious, it's a little exotic. I'm trying to think of a face that would work for this one and I'm thinking maybe one of the gorgeous Bollywood actresses. Unfortunately most of them are unknown here, but have millions of followers worldwide. I don't see Magnifique doing as well in the States as it would in the Middle Eastern countries or India. That wonderful saffron accord with the other spice scents of cumin and nagarmota are overwhelming for most skin types, but perfect for darker skin. I know as much as I love little delicate scents like Diorissimo, they don't work on my oilier, darker skin. They are gone before I leave the house, but these big florientals work like a charm.

However one light scent that does work on me in Serge Luten's Un Lys. This is another scent that almost killed my husband when I bought it. We were in Dubai this summer and the only thing you can do there in the heat is shop. Harvey Nichols at Mall of the Emirates (the one with the ski slope) has an amazing perfume department. I could have spent all day there but for the obnoxious Eastern European shop girl hounding me, plus it was hard throwing my body over price tags with my husband breathing down my neck. I finally quit pretending just to look and grabbed one of Luten's scents to buy. I couldn't take the pressure anymore. I kept trying to get my husband to go off somewhere so he didn't see the price, but I just had to throw austerity to the wind or I would never have left Dubai with this little treasure. It's a soft lily, unlike Frederic Malle's greener Lys Mediterranee. It has an almost creamy, powdery feel from vanilla and a hint of lilac. Created by Christopher Sheldrake (who's since moved to Chanel), it's a classic soliflore that is gorgeously wearable.

I also adore Kai. I found this little known cult classic at a niche store in Jacksonville. If you like gardenia, this is the perfume for you. Not trampy like Jungle Gardenia, not elegant like Isabey, it's just right. Green, pretty, and guarenteed to make people ask you what you have on.

My latest treasure however is Tocca's Cleopatra. I don't normally buy a bottle after only wearing the scent for a few moments, but this was an exception. Tocca had the Cleopatra candle first, but perfume is quite different from that scent. This is a head turner. Grapefruit, greens, tuberose, jasmine, patchouli, amber. Sounds like a perfume cacophony, but is gorgeous on. I want to smell this all the time, in fact I have been wearing it daily for a month and that's unusual for me. If you try one new perfume this year, try this one.

I did mention to my husband a new perfume I'm after. Well, it's not new but it is new to me. JAR, the perfume line of jeweler Joel Arthur Rosenthal, is a niche line represented at Bergdorf Goodman in NYC and the JAR boutique in Paris. They are the most difficult of the niche fragrances to get one's hands on. I looked at a sample on Luckyscents yesterday. For $61.00 I can get a 1 ml vial of Bolt of Lightning. I believe a bottle runs around $800 and is perhaps one ounce. I have not been able to pull that up to verify. I do know that BG does not sell it on their website, nor can you buy it at the reclusive jeweler's shop. He opens only by appointment, and unless HRH is part of your title you have very little chance of getting in...I mentioned I had the need to acquire a bit to my kinder half and he offered to see if he could get me the designer imposter version at one of the souks. I tried to explain good perfume to him...I did...It's okay. He can't make me understand car thingies either.

Well run along now and go scent yourself. If nothing else, hopefully today I have given you a reason to appreciate perfume more than you did already.


Love and Kisses,


Cult Diva

My Favorite BFF-Joe Zee

Yes honey! Now Joe Zee, the fabulous and flamboyantly gay Creative Director of Elle magazine doesn't actually know he's my best fashion fag friend, but at least I have famous imaginary friends unlike some delusional people.

Every girl needs a bff and before you say "fag hag", let me tell you I know better than to stereotype gay men. I know every gay man out there is not a fashion queen, doesn't have a group of girlfriends he hangs with, isn't always close to his mother, isn't into the 3D experience (disco, decorate, dish). I have heard there are some that can't dress themselves, but having grown up in Atlanta I think this might be a vicious urban legend started by some closeted evangelical type. Not meaning you, Ted Haggard.

That bitch is so over sensitive these days....

Anyway, living in the highly closeted Deep South I miss having a really good gay male friend to keep me from indulging in fashion disasters. Someone to dish with about Project Runway or Top Model. Middle of the night emergency calls to comment on award show dressasters....

Let me tell you about having a gay male friend versus a straight male friend. I personally love both as I've always enjoyed the company of men over females. But straight male friends, no matter how "emotionally" close you think you are, still picture you naked when you think they are listening to you natter on about your day....

Your gay friend on the other hand, listens with one side of his brain and critiques your ensemble with the other. You are dressed better in his mind...

If you have a straight man for a friend you have intelligence, wit, and a vagina that with luck and a few drinks he might see one day.

If you have a gay man for a friend you have intelligence, wit, and style. Or backstage access to Cher, Madonna, Celine, Kathy. Or your willing to loan him your new car to pick up that cute guy at the airport that he met online. All friendships have some give and take!

What do you get out of it? Let's look over the salient points:

The best men advise ever. You and your girlfriends have all sorts of silly theories to men's behavior and thought patterns. Your gay bff is a man and can dispel you of any illusions to your new crush's behavior. Didn't call you after last Saturday night? He's not dead, ill, or busy. He's over you now that he got some. He'll call when he wants Chinese again.

What's Chinese? Anyone that's cheap, fast, and delivers.

Your gay bff talks fashion, walks fashion, is fashion. Inevitably better dressed than you, he is an icon you can look up too. Even if he hurts your feelings by telling you that you're too old for Vivienne Westwood.

It's for your own good. Really. If he has to have a fruit fly buzzing around, the least you can do is be a really pretty and fabulous one. Men are competitive about everything you know...This man will never let you leave the house looking bad, unlike girlfriends.

He always has the best gossip about everyone. His ability to get people to confide in him after a few cocktails is legendary. Oh wait, don't you confide in him too?

Always knows how to handle an awkward situation gracefully. Ever walked into the A-list party of the season and realized you've slept with most of the people there? Well, so has he. Now instead of slinking around the perimeter of the room looking embarrassed all evening, you can sit in the best people watching corner and compare hilarious notes while you laugh uproariously that the tall blonde uses the same tired technique on everyone...sad....

So I sit here in fashion wasteland with no one to tell me fashion truth. Except for Joe Zee. Elle has become my bible these days, even over W...and that's saying quite a bit.

Unfortunately, there has been some ugly buzz that Elle is too "gay" now. What's that? It's fashion for god's sake. If it were NASCAR, I would understand, but we're talking clothes, cosmetics, fabulousness....

Not having a gay man at the helm of a high fashion magazine makes about as much sense as Ellen's Covergirl ads for foundation. What dimwit at Covergirl decided the aging lesbian population wasn't being marketed aggressively enough to? Nothing against Ellen, I love her. But what, did Chapstick not want her because it's tired of being associated with gay women?

Thank you Joe Zee for being my friend! Thank you for talking fashion to me. I try occasionally to talk fashion with my kinder half, but bless him, he's clueless. I mentioned my post yesterday on the similarities between Victoria Beckham and Wallis Simpson and he remarked that Wallis Simpson wasn't British. He also thinks Posh is too skinny.

Horror! I have to go buy the new February Elle to get over it!

Love and Kisses,

Cult Diva

Wallis Redux

You know I love all things Posh, but for the last year I have had a strange tickle in back of my mind every time I look at her.....she and the oh so lovely Becks remind me of someone else. Some one more British than British. Someone impossibly thin and tan. Someone famous for being beyond fabulous, yet vapid at the same time. What other globetrotting expatriates floating from fashion shows to parties to yet more frivolous activities are they the modern embodiment of ?

Of course! The classic silhouettes, Kelly bags, jewels, fashion style, smirky expression...

The Windsors!

God no, not any of the pedestrian modern day ones. They're far to inbred to be truly interesting. Except for Harry, the half blood prince. No, not Potter, the red headed one with the unfortunate sound bite situation. I guess he's back off to charm school. They are running out of countries where he can insult the indigenous people. Why not send him to Rome...yet another red haired Harry to piss off a pope.

I was referring to the diva status Wallis and the former Edward VIII. Mention style, class, elegance, and scandal in the mid-twentieth century and inevitably this couple would be mentioned.

Now the fabulous Beckham's haven't had scandal yet...but you can bet I'm standing by breathlessly awaiting the first waft of it. Hopefully it won't smell like those tragically cheap pongs they created for Coty.

However, like Wallis' past, Posh's career has been full of missteps. We all remember the Spice Girls. Then there was her solo career. Yawn.

Her career as an author spanned two epic books that raced to the nearest used book stores despite high sales (yes I'm a shallow book whore too, I bought one). Victoria's ghostwriter on "That Extra Half an Inch" must have laughed his ass off over the title. He probably watched a porn the night before with the same title and suggested it just for fun.

Then there was the dreadful dVb jean and sunglasses line. Neither was horrible looking, but for the price one would expect something a bit more. That awful star on the back pocket looked like something Sears would brand on it's line of jeans...too tacky.

However, thank god Becks makes an ass load of money from all of his endorsements, because god knows it's not from his occasional soccer appearances. He must have a little left over from her shopping, as she has launched another facet to her clothing line. Dresses.

And they're fabulous. They actually look like something she might wear, and you would want to so that you could look like her. Design assistance came from friend Roland Mouret, but inspiration is totally her. These dresses are classic, lean, elegant, and more expensive than most of us can cough up. Not that that has ever stopped anyone. When the passion for fashion strikes...

Which brings me back to the Duchess (the original, not Fergielicious). Victoria Beckham's current style reminds me so much of the fabulous Wallis. Let's look at their similarities:

Short, tight hair.
Angular, lean body. Perfect for showing off couture.
Herme's bags.
Jewels.
Structured, classic clothes, with subtle rich details in luxe materials.
Obviously the brains of the couple.
Lack of expression, though still photographs divinely in a stiff, artificially posed way.


Look:






















If Wallis had a granddaughter, Posh would have to be it. But she didn't have any children, as childbirth is not fabulous. Plus there were always those nasty rumors about weird Asian sex rituals, S&M, transgenderism, ect. I personally think Edward and Wallis enjoyed dressing up and globetrotting more than sex. I heard a rumor once that when they were out alone with each other, she recited the alphabet slowly and with exaggerated facial expressions to him so that it appeared they were having an animated conversation.

I've never actually heard the Beckham's having conversation, I missed all five minutes of their reality show. But in my imagination they sound a lot like Spike and Druscilla from the old "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" series. If you were a fan, you probably know exactly what I'm saying. If not, run out and get season 2--on sale at Walmart.

Now Posh and cute husband love to do lovey photos together, but I don't see her getting all mussed up with sheet wrestling myself. And then there's her body. No child has marred those hip bones. Truthfully, I think Posh and Becks probably went to a celebrity baby farm to get their three. You know, the place they recommended to Katie and Tom. Where they got that cute little Suri at...

And then there's the quote. Which woman said this:

"I am not a beautiful woman. I'm nothing to look at, so the only thing I can do is dress better than anyone else. If everyone looks at me when I enter a room, my husband can feel proud of me. That's my chief responsibility."

Could be either. If you look at either woman's face, they are dramatically plain. Posh's nose is positively snout like. Wallis had a harsh, masculine beak. But these women changed an empire. Wallis got her man to give up a throne, and Posh got hers to turn his back on Manchester United. Both couples roamed the earth afterward, drifting fabulously from place to place doing not much of anything. But these women have made an art of their public image. Posh's clothing line is strongly influenced by one of Wallis' favorite designers, Mainbocher.

I'll give you a free fashion history lesson here, I did put down my compact for that class.


Mainbocher was an iconic American designer based in Paris. He started in fashion journalism and later became the editor of French Vogue. In 1929 he decided he could do fashion better than some the French couturiers and opened his own house. His first collection in spring of 1930 was a hit. His lean and elegant styles were timeless, sadly he is most famous for Wallis Simpson's wedding dress and not any of the other fashion innovations he pioneered. He created the first boned strapless bodice in 1934 and introduced the classic cashmere evening sweater in the '50's. He also designed the first couture inspired pret a porter uniform for working women. He created the uniforms for the Navy's WAVES, the Girl Scouts, and the American Red Cross. Here's a few of his designs:






























Like his work, the dVb dress line is beautifully crafted, both inside and out. Pricey? Mais oui! Worth it? Absolutely. The detailing of these dresses is rich and subtle and the silhouettes are timeless. If you wore the same thing for several seasons you actually could with these dresses. Out of a line of ten, there's not a loser among them. Here's a few shots of my favorites:

Gorgeous! Now if I could just get my mitts on one! They don't release in the US until February and I have been unable to price one at Selfridges--though I hear they are sold out. Despite the recession, which says something about the style and quality of these dresses. Neiman Marcus and Bergdorf Goodman will be carrying them in the States....hope she does a shoe line too!

Anyway, that's our post for Monday. The Teenager is languishing with illness and I am pretending to parent. I made him two grilled cheese sandwiches and poured ginger ale. Now he is bored. Despite his boredom with quality television on VH1 and MTV, at least his little friends are all texting him non-stop. It was so much easier when he was little and I could just give him cold medicine. Then he fell peacefully asleep for several hours and I got "me" time. You know, the same cold medicine you give them when their really sick, not just when you're sick of them.

Must go, the boy needs his temperature taken again.

Love and Kisses,

Cult Diva

Looks Like We Made It....

This truly is a year of firsts; we have the first African-American president and more importantly the first 44 year old in the top 20 of The Top 99 Most Desirable Women according to AskMen.com.

Thank you Monica Bellucci! Born in September of 1964, this Italian born actress is a gorgeous as the day her surgeon finished with her.



Ewwwww! I can almost hear you all saying "Oh Cult Diva, you're so cynical! You think everyone's had work done!"

No I don't.

Only the pretty ones have.


Sorry, don't care how well you've take care of yourself and hopefully you have; shit begins to sink and shift after a point. My thoughts are "why put up with it when you don't have to?" There's no sainthood for saggy face martyrdom or Deborah Winger would already be it. And when was the last time you saw her in anything? Even the fresh faced image of Kinerase skincare, Courtney Cox has admitted to "experimenting with Botox". Was it at at a slumber party? How does one "experiment" with it? Did she score it off the street or in some back alley dermatology clinic? I've always just make an appointment with a qualified professional to inject it right into my aging forehead, so much easier than sharing a needle with a room full of other skinny old actresses.

I discovered Restylane and Juvederm this fall. As much as I diet, workout, use good products; there just comes a point that you look just a little tired. I went to see my beauty doc to discuss my woes. What do you do when you're not old enough (outside of Hollywood) to have a face lift and starting to look a little jowly? Shoot it up!

She looked over my face and recommended Restylane for the sinking around my mouth due to fat resettling and Juvederm for my lips to flesh them up a bit. Then we did a series of six Photo Facials to help tighten my skin and lighten up some of the brown patches.

I never want to go without these again, ever! Obviously as we age the fat in our faces begins to show up everywhere else. Like those weird fat pockets between your arm and upper chest; which is not new fat you've developed, it's actually migrated breast tissue. Don't you feel better knowing that? I can only assume the rolls on my back are migrated ass tissue! But I was lucky enough as a young woman to have a full face, so I don't look as drawn as say.... Cindy Crawford or Nicollette Sheridan. But as the great Catherine Deneuve remarked "there comes a point when you have to choose your face or your fanny." Trying to keep mine off the back of my knees drained little canals around my mouth and flattened my upper lip out.



We did the Restylane first. After the nerve block, Dr. Moore injected and molded the filler into the Erie canals until they were filled in. I looked a little red and puffy for a few hours; almost like I had a muzzle. That look thankfully faded and I was amazed how much younger the subtle amount of filler changed my face! You really don't notice how your sinking until you have a little shot put in. I didn't look like a twenty year old, but that's not what I wanted anyway. Actually I said to her to make me look like a hot woman in her late 30's or there abouts.



I was ready for the Juvederm the next week. Nerve block again, and shoot 'em up. I had to walk around the rest of the day with the "duck bill" look--am I Huey, Dewey, or Louie? I went to show a friend, but did have to explain that the flipped up top lip would go down. Thankfully it did by the next morning. By two weeks I realized I could use a little more, and went back for the rest of the vial. My top lip has always been a little thin and is crooked, but I have always fixed it with lip liner so that it was not as noticeable. With Juvederm it's perfect!

Looking at Ms. Bellucci's picture made me aware of how smooth she is around the mouth also. Now I look at everyone's "muzzle" area; I have become hyper aware of it. Thank god the Restylane lasts for a year, and the Juvederm almost as long. There have been several articles everywhere about the new "baby" face trend sweeping New York and California. Skinny, skinny women (remember the social x-rays of "Bonfire of the Vanities") with faces just shot full of filler. "Big, moon faces" is how one article described them. No more unnecessary face lifts too early, fill the face to lift it. Young faces are smooth, full faces.

And within reason it looks good! Like I said I don't want to look like my chipmunk cheeked youth. I have a picture of myself from my twenties and I remember hating my hugely fat cheeks! Poor Lisa Rinna admits to going crazy with filler in the January 7th issue of The Huffington Post. Did she not learn from her big lip days???? Does she go overboard with everything? Harry Hamlin better pray she never starts heading south of the border with all her filling and tightening; he'll never get back up in there. The blog post quoted her as saying "she regrets overfilling her cheeks with Juvederm and that she still enjoys sex with her husband."

Did she say that in all one sentence? My word! When she "does windows" (assuming she does), he must look down and think it's E.T. It's probably very difficult to keep focus... I just keep seeing those enormous cheeks....

As with everything, moderation is key. I love filler and Botox. I love when people think I'm younger than I am-in a good way. But there will come a point where I say "no more". I haven't decided when that is yet, but I do know I don't want to be described as the "hot grandma" at my far in the future daughter-in-law's baby shower. I don't want to have grandchildren that ask what's wrong with my face either.

I can almost hear their sweet voices asking:

"Grandma, grandma, why are your ears so far back? My other grandma's aren't like that. She said you look like Morgan Fairchild, except not as pretty. Who's she?"

Mean, jealous old trout bitch. Couldn't she have at least compared me to a surgically enhanced old celebrity that had a good, long career?

Someone like Madonna or Cher?

I think next year AskMen needs to add some 50 somethings to that list. Why not Madonna? She has freaky chicken arms and her hands look like claws, but that bitch can still drop it like it's at least still warm. If I had to dance around with Justin Timberlake, I'd have to lay on a heating pad for a week...

What about Tina Turner? She looks great and kept up with Beyonce on last year's Grammy's.

It's time for men to expand their idea of what's hot age wise. Seriously, I can think of a host of older men that are still hot--look at Clint Eastwood.

Next year out of 99 desirable women I hope that more than four women in their forties are on that list. I can't actually do math, but that's a low percentage. Work on it AskMen!

Love and Juvederm lip Kisses,

Cult Diva

Ladies Who Lacquer

Nothing perks me up more than seeing the rainbow of nail polishes that herald the approach of spring. I've been sporting dark shades all winter and I am so ready for a change. Blacks and murky purples have been fun, but I'm starting to feel distinctly Vampira like with my pallid winter complexion.

The cheerful hues that cosmetic lines introduced this season are a good counterpoint to our morbid economy. I may cut back on somethings; like groceries or good vodka, but I'm hardly going to miss my mani/pedi appointment. You know it's bad out there if I ever start sporting the ubiquitous "French" or "American" manicure that every suburban soccer thinks is so comme il faut. Why bother? I've never pondered nail polish selections and thought "oh goodness, I think I'll just have them painted to look like real nails with clear polish. That will match everything!"

They're tired and just scream low maintenance.

Live a little! Obviously you build your polish wardrobe around your seasonal one. You know what colors are dominant in your wardrobe; so plan your nail look around those colors and themes.....

If nothing else go with metallics like gold, platinum, or copper. They're neutral enough to go with most things. There are some beautiful neutral off white and buff shades too; look at Essie's "Ballet Slippers". A classic......too pretty.

However the fashion hand will be wearing brights this spring. Many of the large companies are pushing pink and it's loud mouthed cousin, fuchsia.

Estee Lauder and MAC have jumped on the fuchsia train with brilliant tones that pop. I don't care for this color, but you know I can't help but like it when I see MAC's "Hello Kitty" collection.

I must admit I'm a closet Kitty person. Since I'm not four I try to keep my secret to myself, but I can't wait to get my paws on these goodies. Look:

I think the packaging is adorable and I love the bright colors. Maybe I can find some preschoolers and play dress up with them. Here's another look:

Estee Lauder's interpretation is much softer. Their target audience of WASPS will buy it because it reminds them of the color of a cashmere sweater that mummy had. It's bright without being garish. Daring without being cheap. They'll look exactly as they have looked every season. I heard a rumor that small town Junior Leagues were putting the collection on their "must have" list, right behind the perfect ivory shade for their French manicure. But who listens to cheap gossip? I do know that the "Fuchsia" nail polish from the collection is sold out in many places, so maybe there is hope for the bland nail crowd.

Lancome is trying to flirt with being daring and fun with it's "Pink Irreverence" collection. They also attract a very mainstream audience, so now I know that black nail polish is on it's way out. They have one that is very pretty, but about two seasons too late.

See, it has sparklies...it's called Phia Black.


What the hell is a Phia? I keep googling it and nothing comes up. Let me know if you should find anything.




Now Dior has two new fabulous shades in it's spring collection. They release in February in the U.S., but I hear earlier overseas. I have tried to Ebay them via the Philippines, but no one has one for sale yet. That just makes it more desirable as far as I'm concerned. Nude Chic, a delicate pale beige and Porcelaine, a whisper of pink with shimmer. Pretty, pretty!

Chanel also has a pretty pale pink, Django. It's part of the Bohemian Fantasy collection that the venerable house of fashion has graced us with, and I do mean graced. This is their prettiest collection in years to me, and that's saying a lot. I am loving Vendetta, a moody blue violet.



Look at that? Don't you want to snatch it off the page and run to the manicurist?


I loved their shade, Kaleidoscope, this winter and wore it in between bouts with darker shades. I think I will love it this spring too, it's such a unique color. Not quite platinum with a chrome green undertone. You have to see it in person to appreciate it, it sounds ghoulish when I try to describe it.



Zoya and OPI both have cutesy, bright collections this spring comprised of pastels on speed. OPI has a fun color called Done Out In Deco, a funtastic frosted lilac in their South Beach Collection


I think this would look cute this summer. Maybe I can carry it in My Hello Kitty makeup case.




Zoya's collection, Twist, is composed of candy hued shades also. I will try these too.



The colors all have perky little names too. Except for the inexplicably named Jo.



Deborah Lippmann has a pretty collection too, but when doesn't she? I love the two pinks, Status Symbol and Flawless. Both are bright flamingo shades of pink that are completely flattering to every skin tone.

I normally get my nails done weekly. Tuesdays are touch-up if necessary, plus pedicure. Saturday are polish change days. I should have plenty of time to try most of these and find some favorites. I am putting money on Vendetta and Nude Chic to be my favorites. I'll have to post a picture when I get one of them. I'm currently wearing "Varicose Vein Violet" from MAC's Dame Edna collection and it's just pretty in a sort of vapid way. No one has grabbed my hand and screamed "I want that polish!"

Now run along ladies and help support your local nail artists. I am loving Miss Kim at Blazer nails on Ashley Street. I've been going to her for about four months now; which means a long term relationship as far as I'm concerned. I'm hell on nail people usually. I like my nail exactly at finger tip length and curved to the shape of my finger. I don't want long, square nails, they went out about the same time Sunny Von Bulow went into her coma. If you insist on long nails, then go absolutely berserk and have them curved with little designs on them. Never do anything half way, if you're going trailer park then do it loud and large!

XXXX,

Cult Diva

More Recessionista Beauty Tips

Recessionista: term for a fashionable woman surviving in the current economy and still looking fierce.

I love new slang terms and it's so hot right now to look both chic and frugal. As if that were really possible. The key is to look low maintenance, as if you were naturally fabulous. No obvious labels or recent life enhancement surgery showing please. This is not the time to trot by a homeless middle class family with the latest Louis Vuitton Safari Bag. That would be a month's mortgage for them if they still had their home! If you must carry it, disguise it in a Bottega Veneta woven tote. They get mistaken for Target handbags all the time.

I'm not suggesting giving up being fabulous by any means, but the least I can do is help you prioritize what you absolutely cannot live without. I want to show you where you can cut corners in your budget so that you can still afford those handbags and shoes you can't live without.

First tip: Stop grocery shopping. You don't need the calories anyway. If you have children, make sure they always have a play date around dinner time and turn off your cell phone until at least 7 or 8 o'clock. Get them a flashlight so that they can find their way home; then you save gas and our planet from harmful emissions.

Second tip: Make a list of organs your family doesn't need anymore. Remember my tip about selling one of your husband's kidneys to finance laser resurfacing? You probably have a lot of organs in your house that could be sold on the black market and there is big money in healthy, overfed American ones. Think about it. If you had to have an organ transplant would you want a nice one from one of your own countrymen, or a sad undernourished one from some desperate third world person that was probably sold to keep at least one of the children from having to enter a sweatshop that makes faux Coach bags. Exactly. If you have a big family then good for you! I see lots of fabulous things in your future.

Third tip: Tell your children that they are well rounded enough and cancel all their expensive after school activities. No one needs French lessons, everyone speaks English in France and they don't want to hear your children mangling their precious patois with their nasal American accents anyway. Ditto for modeling/acting lessons. Just tell them they are never going to make it in the competitive world of entertainment, they just don't have what it takes. They can pay for their own therapists later. Hopefully they will have enough self esteem left to get a job with a decent EAP program to cover those bills.

Fourth tip: Let go of your domestic help. Now that the kids are home all the time, make the lazy little bastards clean house. Then they might appreciate all the time you took when you had to tell someone else how to do it correctly in loud fractured Spanglish.

Fifth tip: Charge your husband for sex. Seriously! Nothing like a little strange that you won't get in trouble for. He'll think he's died and turned into Elliot Spitzer! Go buy a wig and some trashy lingerie at Fredricks. Tell him your name is Amber and you're just doing this to get through medical school. Get him his favorite beverage and sit on his lap while he talks about his day for at least twenty minutes of your precious time. Make sure to get the money up front though. I would get cash if I were you, no checks or credit cards please. There are so many possibilities here for fantasy role play too! If you put an apron on and microwave a little garlic, he'll think you're cooking dinner too!

Sixth tip: Organize a little Home Shoplifting Network club. Since you're the brains of the organization you get to send your minions out with a list of what you want. This is another good chore for those pesky children underfoot, plus it won't stay on their record after eighteen. You wouldn't want something as unnecessary as a felony conviction to keep them from getting into the college of their choice right?

Seventh tip: Ebay your family's stuff that's laying around everywhere. They never know where their stuff is and are always asking you anyway. Next time one of your teens asks where his brand new expensive North Face ski jacket is; just shrug and make as much of a "concern" face as you can with all that new Botox in between your eyebrows. This goes for hubby too. When he's thrashing around Saturday morning looking for his Ping putter make sure you get out of bed and help search too. Go to your weekend mani/pedi appointment while he accuses the kids. Stay gone until the screaming is over.

Eighth tip: Get a Fairy Godfather. One Saturday afternoon drive yourself to the nearest gay ghetto for brunch. Deliberately wear one black shoe and an identical one in almost, but not quite black, navy blue. Sit yourself at a center table with your dog earred copy of "He's Just Not That Into You." The Tim Gunn impulse will trigger in the nearest sympathetic gay male within the first ten minutes. Next thing you know you'll be toasting each other with Bloody Mary's; then you're just a hop, skip, and a jump away from swapping expensive beauty products. Plus you have a new, fun shopping friend! It's a win-win for all.

Ninth tip: Cancel the family vacation. You'll miss them terribly as you watch the sun set off the deck of the darling little spa you found in Costa Rica, but maybe there's a gift kiosk in the lobby where you can pick them up a t-shirt. You will have to convince yourself that it's okay to spoil yourself now and again when you see their little faces pressed against the car window as they drop you off at the airport. But you'll forget them as soon as the in-flight drinks are served.

Tenth and final tip: Start a non-profit to help women build self esteem. Apply for tax-exempt status, make a pamphlet with Publisher, and solicit donations. You don't have to mention that you're the only woman that's actually profiting from it. Rich people like to donate, it gives them tax write-offs. So you're helping redistribute the wealth and stimulating the economy at the same time. My god, you're almost a potential candidate for the Nobel and that carries a 10,000,000,000 prize cash out. Of course that's in Krona, not dollars.

There, that was easy wasn't it? And I gave you these tips for FREE. Do you know how much that awful Suzy Orman charges for financial advise? She doesn't even have good hair! I'm a saint, I know. Share these today with someone you love that's exactly your size and has fabulous taste.

Love and Kisses,

Cult Diva

This dame may be cheap, but she's never trashy

Is there anything as wonderful as getting inexpensive goodies that make you fabulous?



Of course there is, silly girl. Really wonderful is getting expensive goodies that make you fabulous. You can coat the soles of your Payless high heels with red paint all you want, but that will never make them Louboutins will it?



I was able to put a few pennies away in my Louboutin savings jar this week by purchasing some inexpensive, but chic pretties at some of Valdosta's local vendors.



First on my list is T.J. Maxx on St. Augustine road. Again, inexplicably we have a terrific selection of merchandise at this national chain's local store. My guess would be that there are so few fashionistas in the area that the good stuff gets passed over. Seriously, there are people here that wear rubber flip flops to work at their offices or to our few decent restaurants. I'm not making this up to make this city appear more quaint and Mayberry-like; Valdosta is like a fashion black hole. There are women here still walking around with asymmetrical bobs from 2007, and once I actually sighted a woman my own age wearing The Rachel from 1995. That too occured in 2007. Oh the horror of it all!



So, since I have a life mission to inspire these poor, fashion starved darlings, I to out of my way to cruise the store at least once a week for overlooked cheap treasures and true fashion finds. It's my karmic duty. Plus, I enjoy the looks of envy. Well Saturday was just shopping Mardi Gras for moi....

Purchase number one was a pair of Just Cavalli sunglasses for a whopping $29.99. Now what did I do when I spotted them besides gasp? Of course you know I lunged for them with the same sort of desperate aggression that Denise Richards has towards friend's husbands. Well, maybe not. She doesn't really have friends anymore, does she? Just those smelly animals....



Anyway, I'll put a pic up so you can enjoy them too. The glasses, of course. Who wants to see Denise Richards? Soooooo over her.....

And what goes with sunglasses better than eye makeup?

Well, lots of things, but we need to stay on track here. I found hidden on an end rack right out in front of everyone a fabulous stash of Hard Candy eye shadow quartets for $3.99. I picked up Sonic; which is a foursome of glittery golds, and Star; which is a mix of silver sprinkled purples. These will be perfect for New Orleans this spring. I'm taking my kinder half there for a first honeymoon. Sadly we didn't have a first one, but I promise you we will make up for it in April.

I also found a good selection of Lancome products. I am not a huge fan of their makeup though I love some of their perfumes; namely the discontinued classic Magie Noir and their latest release, Magnifique. I looked through the lipsticks and glosses anyway as they were a great price and found a pretty color called Pink Nuance from their Le Rouge Absolu line. It's sort of a beigy-pink frost that is very flattering. It's been so long since I've worn Lancome lipstick that I forgot how good it tasted! Sort of gummy bearish...

Then I went drugstoring. I have to look at makeup everywhere, I am totally democratic that way. Somewhere once I read that the only real money you should spend on cosmetics are for foundation and mascara and I totally agree with the foundation part. I still had not fully made up my mind about mascara; as I said in an earlier post I've been using Maybelline's Colossal and find it to be just adequate. Since I'm always open to new products I thought I would give some other inexpensive brands a try. I picked up L'Oreal's new Double Extend, Maybelline's Lash Stiletto, Maybelline's XXL Extensions, and finally Covergirl's LashBlast Luxe.

Truthfully I have not been impressed with any of them. The Double Extend did make my lashes longer looking in a plastic alien like way. Oh my god, maybe that's why they use Linda Evangelista in the ad! Now it makes sense! I am so glad that she admitted to using a little Botox to enhance her looks because I just thought her face might have frozen back in the early '90's and I hate to think of anyone being in a state of suspended inanimation that long.

Lash Stiletto did not lengthen my lashes in a noticeable manner or give them a patent leather shine.

Maybelline XXL is clumpy and boring. It's so boring I can't even think of something clever and witty to say about it.

Covergirl LashBlast Luxe is average mascara with shimmer. I occasionally have lapses in taste and my inner white trash trailer park queen loooves colored and glittery mascaras. You know how Beyonce has this sexy alter ego called Sasha Fierce? Well my inner white trash doppelganger is named Britney Spears. No wait, that's taken. Have you noticed that the name Britney and all of its hideously spelled derivatives is so played even the trailer park teens don't use it for their meth babies anymore? Anyway my inner manufactured housing name can be Dixie Kristyl. Well let me tell you what, LashBlast Luxe didn't have near enough of anything for Dixie! You couldn't even see the shimmer, not even if she was lap dancing right up on you! Way too subtle and who wants that?? It's the french manicure of shimmer mascaras. Just bland, bland, bland.

So now I agree, spend money on mascara. Unless you're Dixie Kristyl. She prefers Wet n Wild Mega Lash in Blastin' Blue with silver glitter sprinkled in. It matches her belly piercing and the blue makes her tramp stamp just pop.

Stay tuned for a new posting on nail polishes and the women who love them.

Huge kisses,

Cult Diva

The old gray mare just ain't what she used to be....

Remember your first? Or the time your BFF called to tell you about hers? Sitting around with all your girls laughing about your first over cocktails?

Remember how horrified you were?

Not your first experience with amor....

The first time you found a gray pubic hair. There should be a hot line you can call, like 1-800-OLD-PUSS, where you can speak with a trained counselor. Some one who really understands and can put it all in perspective for you.

But there's not. So you'll just have to put up with little old me. Now personally, I am not too hung up on my below the Prada belt age. Remember, I think bodies are for dressing not running around naked like animals. However I have stumbled upon an entire industry dedicated to prettifying your pudenda and I must say I am amazed at the lengths some girls will go to for appearance's sake.







Not really, but now I'm just exhausted thinking about all the extra maintenance this involves! Lets get started with the simple stuff and work our way up--no cheap pun intended!



We all know about hair removal, that's just a basic like having your car's oil changed. Takes ten minutes or less and you can finish your Vogue article while it's happening. You can shave, depilitate, or home wax if you are especially flexible. There are even tools for this very project, like "Coochie Shave" which is a special shaving cream for la coochie. It comes in pretty packaging and fun scents like Plumeria and Spring Rain. And we all know how important it is to have private parts that smell like Glade candles. Small suggestion, why not do a Fresh Breeze one for those times your feeling perhaps a bit wilted? Just a thought...

Now home wax is a little trickier. I can do it, but like cutting my own bangs I always end up longer on one side. Then I try to even it out and next thing you know I have a weird, scraggly patch that's completely off center, sort of like Joan River's wig.

Then off course there's the Brazilian; or the bald eagle. You pay someone a huge amount of money and a generous tip to rip all the hair off from your bellybutton to your tailbone so that you can wear bikinis that look like this:

If I had abs like those I wouldn't care if my kitkat looked like a wookie...

Then there's the French wax, where all the hair is removed; including labial hair. Then a piquant landing strip is left. Orly or Charles de Gaulle?

There is also an American. It's pretty basic; just remove what hangs out the sides of your panties. I never knew it had a name, I've always just called it "Deployment Bush". Remember, my kinder half was military for a quarter of a century. While he was off defending our country I had better things than pubic maintenance to do with his combat pay, like redecorate the house or myself.

And finally there's the "Bollywood". I like this one a lot and am trying to find someone to do it for me. It's the Full Monty plus a henna tattoo design on your mons. Exotic!

For those of you that want the final solution there is always electrolysis or lasers. These used to be expensive options, but now there's a laser center on every corner. Just be careful, big bushes could come back and you wouldn't want the equivalent of '80's hair in your pants would you? Nothing dates a woman like her hair style....

You can also leave enough hair to cut into shapes. Remember Sex in the City's Samantha and her lightning bolt? There are several kits you can purchase with stencils designs like hearts or stars, http://www.justkittying.com/ sells a personal pubic preening kit that is precious.

You can also dress up your newly bald kitkat with flat backed Swarovski crystals (they have them at Michael's Craft store). Just make sure you put them on with false eyelash glue, not super glue! You don't want your family doctor to find out what a little freak you are do you? There's also temporary tattoos for you weekend bad girls. For the really crafty types, I suppose you could get into your scrap booking supplies, the possibilities are just endless!

For those of you that prefer a little hair down there, those grays can be easily eradicated. "Betty" is a line of pubic hair coloring that is marketed as being very gentle for your delicate area. It comes in a full range of natural colors and a few festive hues for those of us that love to surprise our partners. I personally love the "Malibu Betty" shade, which is sort of a Caribbean blue. You can purchase this directly off their site: http://www.bettybeauty.com/ An online company called "Shop in Private" offers a few different lines of pubic hair color, including "Smart Bikini" which also offers a good variety of shades.

If you are really serious about having the best coochie ever, pick up a copy of the book "Hot Pink: The Girl's Guide to Primping, Passion, and Pubic Fashion" by Karen Risch. This is the go to guide to every below the belt grooming question ever.



And since your down there, don't forget about your back door! Apparently a proportionately large amount of our population is bleaching their rear entry to make it look younger. Having done loads of research for you, let me tell you there are tons of posts about this. I have learned more than I ever wanted to know about getting out pesky stains, and I thought skid marks were ickky enough! The common method is with just plain old hydroquinone that you buy for spots on your face or hands, but you can buy more expensive kits online. If you really want to pursue this go to http://www.bleachbum.com/ and knock yourself out!



Now for those of you that are really serious about having a kitkat like an eighteen year old's there are surgical options here. Brace yourself now, but there is a medispa in Manhattan called Perfect PHIT (pelvic health integrated techniques) that is all about lifting and tightening your sagging lady parts. They offer individually tailored vaginal rejuvenation for aging or postpartum pudenda. Everything from surgical techniques like labial reduction, tightening, and non-surgical laser resurfacing of the vulva. You can even get your skin refreshed with peels or gentle microdermabrasion. They also offer a variety of at home products to tighten and tone those important Kegel muscles like Femtone weights or Kegelmaster. Who knew you could lift weights with your vagina? I know there's places in third world countries that young ladies can chop fruit and pick up spare change this way, but wouldn't it surprise the hell out of my husband when he comes home if I served him a beer that way? I may have to start training for this, it's important to keep a marriage fresh with a few twists and turns.



Now lets go to the motherland of all new trends; California. If you're in the L.A area, you might want to drop into the Laser Vaginal Rejuvenation Center of Los Angeles. They have pioneered the anti-aging trend for your privates by offering several services including LVR-Laser Vaginal Rejuvenation and DLV-Designer Laser Vaginoplasty. LVR just tightens and tones the whole package up, while DLV is for more extensive surgery like labial reduction or to reshape the prepuce. Today I learned that the prepuce is the excess skin around your clitoris. According to LVRC's website, many women have this done to make the prepuce drape in a neater fashion around the clitoris to frame it better. And I thought I had too much time on my hands! I'm sure you can't get that done here, I still haven't found a decent seamstress yet.



They also offer laser services to remove hyperpigmention of the labia. Since I suffer from severe melasma on my face this scared the shit out of me. Is my kitkat blotchy too??


They also offer liposuction for those unfortunate enough to have a fat mons area. What exactly constitutes a fat pussy? Do you have a big bulge in your pants? Does a lover mention it in passing? I would just die to know how this is determined.



For those of you that are less than pussilicious, you can get Juvederm filler or even fat harvested from your own body (their italics, not mine) injected into your skinny kitkat. I'm glad to see they especially mention it would be your fat, because god knows I wouldn't want to get the recycled kind from the fat pussy lady.



I even looked a pictures of vaginal rejuvenations and watched a surgery on YouTube. I love the Internet! As bad as I was beginning to feel about myself, when I saw the before pictures of some of these surgeries I felt a hell of a lot better. I had to beauty call my BFF at eight o'clock in the morning to share it with her because some of the images were so shocking!


I hope I have given you all something new to thing about today! It just amazes me all the new things out there to keep us all happily self absorbed!



Keep those good thoughts!



Cult Diva

Out damned spot!

Out, I say! One; two, why then 'tis time to do't. My skin is murky.

Okay, probably not exactly how the Bard would have written it, but I would bet it's exactly what Lady Macbeth was trying to say. Men always misinterpret women, why is that?

Of course her skin was murky! After 35, even with the best of home care, you have to know when to call in the professionals.

Being a diva, I've been taking care of mine since my teens. Years of acne taught me that early! Sadly I spent much of my wasted youth tanning and sun bedding. Remember when those first beds came out? Year round bronze beauty.That's why so many of us look like handbags today. In my case a badly mottled one.

Melasma. Say it loud, say it proud. My face by mid-thirties looked like a shaded relief map of Asia. I won't go into a scientific definition of melasma, but it's a horrid condition of blotchy, brown areas all over your skin. It looks like Guerlain's Terracotta Summer Stones, except not blended or pretty. Melasma apparently loves all things Asian, African, Mediterranean, or Hispanic. Since I am a mixture of two of these groups, I get lots of love from Melasma. Not to say it discriminates, it likes white girls too. But you know us brown girls love to show how tan we get, and I could roast and toast with the best of them. Well bully for me because all I have to show for it is my multicolored face.

I've used Retin-A since my teens, so that has probably helped somewhat with the problem. But since around thirty-six I have been plagued with ever expanding dark brown blotches that responded to nothing. You name a department store brand to lighten and clarify skin and I have used it, honey. You could finance a small country on the amount of money I've spent on products, including and not up to Tri-Luna which did nothing at all.

Then Miss Christy came to town, and like a bad ass skin care sheriff, took care of some business with my skin.

Christy Howell is the new medical esthetician at my favorite Valdosta doctor's office; Azalea Center for Plastic Surgery. Dr. Bridgette Moore is the nip/tuck wiz that gave me my superboobs, and newly fleshed out lips. If you are considering any sort of cosmetic surgery, you need to check her first. In fact, here's a link: http://www.azaleacenter.com/. Just because there's a recession doesn't mean that your beauty doc needs to suffer! For god's sake, sell your children to white slavers or the Pitt-Jolies if you must. Your husband only needs one kidney to effectively function, and your parents will be perfectly happy in a Medicaid run facility! It's not like they know where they are anyway, and since they already don't know who you are anymore,why not surprise them with a new look every time you remember to visit?


Anyway, Ms. Howell took one look at my skin and said "Oh hell no, I'm not a magician." Okay, that's not what she said at all. She told me all about the wonderful Obagi Nu-Derm system, gave me a DVD to take home and scheduled me an appointment to taser my face.

I did a series of intense pulsed light therapy sessions, aka Fotofacial, Photofacial, Photoderm and a host of other nicknames. IPL therapy is a non-ablative skin resurfacing tool.

Oh my god I sound smart! But just in case let me explain it in other languages.....

For those of us that painted our nails in science class, I offer a non-college track interpretation: it doesn't like screw up the top part of your skin that you like see, it works like on a deeper level somewhere near your like bones or something. It like makes your skin do right.

Diva interpretation: You look fucking fabulous, it's worth every penny you had to finance a series of procedure. It's not like you were going to grocery shop anyway!

To my darling Husband interpretation: It has a warranty and it's only $49.99. That interpretation worked with my boob job and will work for you too! Men love warranties!

If you're deaf, I can't sign. You'll just have to look like one hot mess until I can find a person that does that hand talk thingy.

Does it hurt? Well I guess that depends on your pain or drug tolerance. I am probably somewhere in the middle. I always scheduled in the morning, but I think the afternoons would be better. Now that I don't have to do carpool line anymore, I don't have to stop at one mid-afternoon Bloody. So just put yours in a to go cup and you're set! The common description of the sensation is like a rubber band is snapping against your skin. What the hell?? Did some minor league masochist come up with that? Who sits around snapping rubber bands on their skin?

Close your eyes. Imagine for one second that your special toy has a short in it during happy time. Ouch!

It feels like that for about fifteen minutes except on your face instead. If they start offering IPL for vaginal rejuvenation then I quit. But that's a whole 'nother blog post and I promise you, we will go there. Who else tells it straight but your sistah Cult Diva?

According to http://www.plasticsurgery.com/, your doctor may offer pain pills or sedatives during a session. I faced mine like a natural woman, no drugs or anything. Now the first one, I had a nerve block going on since I had just had Restylane injected into the cute, comma like indentations around my mouth. So I really didn't notice anything, and laughed through the whole thing. The rest of the series was performed while I was stone cold sober and it was distinctly uncomfortable. My pain threshold starts with paper cuts, you should clean them well and take a Vicodin. But big girls know that beauty is painful and expensive, just like dating younger men. But at least with IPL you look better when it's all over with.



Ms. Howell wrestled mightily with the demon that is melasma and the battle is not over yet. Today we--she did a TCA peel; which is a mid-level peel to even out pigment problems as well as other age related infirmities. Don't make me do the interpreting thing again. We--she did a 20% solution which means nothing to me, but in layman's terms burned like Hell fire for about three minutes. I was worried since I still had to grocery shop afterward and didn't want to look like a freak.



Then I remembered I was going to Wal-Mart, and I swear I've seen people that look sub-human there. Remember the bar scene in "The Empire Strikes Back"? I've seen some of those life forms shopping at our Wally World. No one took a second look at me while I snatched groceries off the shelves.



She sent me home with my red faced self and ideas for more services to purchase. Besides the Jane Iredale cosmetics that are offered at the office now, she also just got in the Clarisonic Face brush. This is some sort of super cleaning tool for your face that you can use at home. I got on their website tonight to check it out for myself and so can you: http://www.clarisonic.com/ . It's getting rave reviews from professionals and that group can be a hard sell. I've put it on my "to get" list.



Big sale this month at Azalea Center on Obagi products! I can't remember the exact details and should have grabbed a flyer. Basically if you buy the entire Obagi system--the full size products--you get some IPL sessions for free. If you buy the travel sized line, you get a peel for free. These products are totally worth it. They sound expensive as a set, but if you add up all the stuff you have at home that's not working you'll l find they are about equal. I was using an expensive line before, plus a few other pricey products. I have seen better result with Obagi that I have with Cellex-C and La Mer; which were my skin potions of choice before. I've been using them for about seven weeks now and I am thrilled with my new, improved skin. If you want to read more about the Obagi system go to their website at http://www.obagi.com/

But the biggest selling point any esthetician has is her own skin. Ms. Christy looks like she is about to pledge Tri Delt and yet she claims to have teenage children. Her skin is perfect, enough said. My only regret is that we did not do before and after photos so that I could post them; there is that noticeable of a difference.

Here's some other advise: if you see TCA peels offered online that you can do yourself--don't! I know it's cheaper than letting a professional do the work, but these products can potentially do a lot of damage to your skin. People go to school and lots of other training to correctly diagnose and treat skin. They take state licensing exams, and various continuing education units to keep themselves up to date on new procedures. You on the other hand just enter your maximum bid in perfect ignorance of the ramifications of home peeling kits. Would you order a do it yourself pap smear online and trust the results would be correct? For god's sake treat your face with the same value. At your age people see it more often than the other anyway!

Next month my skin BFF Christy and I will be doing a Fraxel laser thingy. Apparently I have high maintenance skin--who knew?? Perfection is heavy upkeep and if you can't live like me than at least live through me.

Love and kisses,

Cult Diva

Come darlings, chew the chicken with me...

Yes honey, the chicken. Without the skin. It's always that time of year in this house; there is never any rest for the flabby. I am pausing between sentences to take bites of my dry, tasteless, organic chicken breast. I know you can flavor them up without adding extra fat or god forbid a carbohydrate, but after a year of eating them for lunch and dinner I could truly not give a damn. It's still chicken. Some people diet to look better naked. I diet to look better dressed. It's all about the clothes. They can vanity size all they want, but I know when I'm really a 2 as opposed to an Ann Taylor 2.


Add to the chicken, fruit, lettuce, and EAS Myoplex lite and just a few trendy supplements like CLA, Green Tea extract, multivitamins, extra C, and essential fatty (low fatty) acids. You know I'm a product whore, you can sell me just about anything. Worst are the infomercials, if I don't turn them off within the first thirty seconds I am done for. Informercials were made for people like me.


Then there's the gym. Thank you Carol and Karla, plus all the trainers that have helped remove my thass at the Valdosta YMCA. What's a thass? It's a horrible condition where your ass and thigh have melded together into one big cellulite covered blob. There is no defined ass/thigh mark anymore. I really think there should be more public advocacy for the thass, fundraisers, information booths, pamphlets, something. Millions of people are walking around this country with a thass; and don't even know it. You can't even do an intervention on a person with a thass, they are just too fragile and unstable at that vulnerable moment they become aware of it.


I saw mine in February of 2008. For some reason I had the oddest urge to look at myself naked in the mirror and turn around. Then I turned sideways to get the full 360 of the thass. That's when I knew I had hit rock bottom and needed help. For at least eight years I had only been looking at myself from the front; fully arrayed, sprayed, and accessorized. Being shallow, I was perfectly happy with just the front view. And you know as sensitive as I am, I can't believe I never turned around to check the rear view. God knows I poke fun mercilessly all the time at how people look from behind.


I haven't actually stopped, but at least I am more empathetic of their dilemma and there is something to be said for that.


Not really, but that sounded so nice.


Anyway after the thass viewing, I slugged back a few vodkas and hustled my thass over to the nearest gym and signed up my entire family. Because if I'm going to sweat and suffer, by god they are too. Then I went home and googled Jessica Simpson's workout for the epic film "The Dukes of Hazzard". She had a great body in that movie and we're the same height, plus I buy her shoe line. Her first husband was a tool and so was mine. We both have fake breasts and lips, but here we deviate a little since she's still in denial. And neither of us can sing a note, but who cares when you have big tits? We have so much in common it's almost scary! It's like we could be related, and you know Mariah Carey could be our cousin. She's just like us!


Anyway, back to me. Jessica spent two hours a day, seven days a week in the gym. Piece of cake. Having given up smoking, it's not like I had anything better to do. It's too early to drink alone in the morning, so off I dragged my sagging thass to the gym! One hour was for the elliptical machine (set at 20/ at least a 12 on resistance). Then there were the weights. Arms on Monday, Wednesday, Friday. Legs on Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday. Abs everyday, and on Sunday the Belly dance/Zumba class after the elliptical machine.


Then came the oh so addictive Spin Class. That's a five day a weeker after the other stuff.


Bye bye thass! Hello Kim Kardass-hian booty!


And that's where the chicken comes in. You can't just workout a lot. It worked when you were eighteen and danced drunkenly all night and then went to Krystal. You knew as soon as you got home and lay down you would get bed spins and throw up those nasty calories all over the place. Sometimes you got lucky and puked before you ever got home. Nothing to clean up if you aim out the window right.

Here's my special chicken recipe just for you!


Take a big pack of chicken breasts. Turn oven to 375. Put chicken in a big pan. Leave in oven until you smell it strongly. It's probably done by that point. Wrap each breast individually and there you have it. If your diet pills have kicked in wrap the chicken decoratively just like they did on Martha Stewart last week.


I like to call it "Chicken Fuck You"


It's not exciting to eat healthy. I really prefer the no eat, Diet Coke, alcohol, diet pill diet, but that makes you look (and act) like Janice Dickenson after a while.


I did have a brief try with Alli (it was still a prescription then), but I just didn't get much out of it. You'll never sell anything to the fashion crowd that includes "anal seepage" in the warning label. I am not going to risk an outfit by having grease leaking from my ass, nor is anyone else with sense. And see I was right! They deregulated it and Wal-Mart scooped it right up for their crowd. You can go in any store and it's right up front with the enormous cart of roasted chicken.


Now one diet trend I have not tried is based on a wonderful side effect of the new condition sweeping the nation; Adult Attention Deficit Disorder. Strattera and Adderall apparently just melt the pounds off you and give you the energy to cope with car pool line aggression. I may skip this one based on what I've seen in my own acquaintances. Here's a snide aside to one desperate housewife; you don't have AADD. You still are a scatterbrained beeaych even on the meds. Plus, they don't mix well with your morning cocktail.


I may give up the chicken for a while though now that I have Posh's diet. She and I have a lot in common as well. We both love clothes and she can afford them.


Here's her diet: organic endamame, strawberries, lettuce, and an algae/seaweed shake.


That's it. For god's sake were you expecting more? Here's a tidbit I heard but have not been able to actually verify. For snacks she carries a little bag of dried shrimp and eats them when she gets

peckish.

Because I have cyberstalkerishy tendencies I went to the Asian market up near the base and bought a bag of them so that she and I might have one more thing to talk about one day. Have you ever smelled dried shrimp? I can't think of a way to put this delicately so I won't: they smell like a vagina gone terribly wrong. I don't believe for a moment Posh is carrying these around in that $120,000 crocodile Birkin handbag those nice people at Hermes gave her to flounce around. Nobody wants a handbag that smells like off pussy, not even to be thin. I'll bet she gets her assistant to carry them for her. No one cares what they smell like. That's what I would do.


Anyway, you can order the algae/seaweed shake thingy off of http://www.nutricology.com/. It's called "ProGreens". You mix it with water and slowly savor all thirty calories. I just ordered mine, it has lots of vitamins in it already, so I can ditch that twenty calorie multivitamin I was taking!



I'll let you know how it works! I'm sure it tastes like grass clippings and ass, but it sure will beat the hell out of chicken.

Love to all,

Cult Diva

I love me some Golden Globe Awards

Last night I lounged around waiting for the train wreck that is the Golden Globe awards. First of all who cares what the Foreign Press Corps thinks? This is just an excuse for everyone to dress up and go out so that some can get a meaningless award and others can make fun of them.

Last night did not disappoint at all. Thank the gods the current conservative administration is out (perhaps they are rapturing) and the new fun group is in. The last few G.G's have been dull, I am surprised they didn't start things with a prayer session. But last night was the booze and drug fueled party we all want to see televised. Just having Robert Downey Jr. and Mickey Rourke in the room was a contact high. Now lets dish!

Wasn't that thoughtful of Laura Dern to give her hairdresser the night off? I got a warm fuzzy thinking of Laura whipping out her Clairol hot rollers and braving it out herself. The resulting half up/half down with the little flipped up bangs was very junior high dance. Shame, because her dress was retrofabulous and perfect for her in a rather gawky way.

Salma Hayek looked the same as always. Fabulous, but no real range. Great dress, great hair, exploding bosom. Do all Spanish/Latina girls find one look and never deviate? That explains so much about Penelope Cruz, Jennifer Lopez, and Ricky Martin. Jennifer's bun; does she keep all her old wedding/engagement rings in there?

Now poor Miss Mendes is a whole 'nother story. It must be the poor Cuban refugee thing. She must be sleeping with someone really important as she keeps cropping up in fairly large budget movies and has no talent whatsoever. She has to be past her cut off date to be the next big bombshell by now and that stale pageant dress last night said it all. It was ugly when she first wore it in the Miss East L.A pageant of 1986 and even worse now. What happened to her hair? I can say no more without sounding catty and I would hate that.

Drew. We all love her and applaud her sobriety. But isn't it so much fun when the veneer cracks? Actually I looooovved the John Galliano dress. But what I loved most was the hair. It was Marilyn Monroe at her Seconal and champagne best. I felt like any moment she might start singing Happy Birthday to someone. Didn't you love when she came out as a presenter? She reeled around with that big Ecstasy grin and just loooved everyone while poor old Jessica Lange tottered out holding on to her for dear life. I think Drew might have flown if possible. And here is another thing I have to get off my chest while we are here. Don't send naturally aging stars out next to artificially aging ones, or even sit them next to each other. It was painful to look at the wreck of the Lang, then look at the waxiness of the other old stars in the audience. At least Meryl Streep, Glenn Close, and Susan Sarandon sat somewhat close together, so they didn't look as awkward as some pairings, i.e Ms. Moore and the son she never had.

Best part of the evening though surely was when Heath Ledger won for best supporting actor. The look on Tom Cruise and Robert Downer Jr.'s faces was priceless. Robert actually had to put his shades on momentarily after snorting a huge amount of something that materialized out of somewhere. And rightfully so! The other nominees were fabulous in their respective roles. All Heath Ledger had going for him is that he is dead. DEAD. He's been dead for a while. I make no apologies here, but he is getting more honors dead than alive. It's tiresome, and lets move on people. I know Robert Downer was thinking of all the times he has almost overdosed and no one gave him an award for that, right? And Tom Cruise.....well look for some scary things from the Scientologist contingent this year....his Thetans were acting up. I think he deliberately called down Renee Zellweger to present an award in that otherworldly voice, 'do, and ensemble. Then she vaporized back to where ever it is she goes between public appearances......

On a fashion note though, I did love all the low ponytails and stylized chignons. Finally some done looking hair to go with the dresses and jewels. Except Cameron Diaz, who couldn't find time to get her roots done or run a comb through her seasick locks. She did wrap a fun pareo around her bikini, though I don't think menopausal melon is really her color.

I just can't get into Mickey Roarke right now. I love that he won a richly deserved award, "The Wrestler" is pure genius. He was lost for a while, but is now back. Sadly I promise we will lose him again, but oh well. Where would True Hollywood Story be without train wrecks? We would be stuck with perky stories about dull people like the Jonas Brothers or Miley Cyrus.

I can't leave without a nod to Brad and Angie. They looked positively bored. Maybe their just tired of all those dreary children. He table hopped a little, and she sat there scratching a tattoo and smiling wanly at nothing. They are pretty though. I emailed their PR slave recently. I'm trying to get them to adopt the Teenager, they don't have a South Georgia child yet. He's pretty, underprivileged and old enough to babysit the other ones. I think we have a good chance!

Well, all we have to look forward to now is the Oscars and believe me I am scratching days off the calendar. Have to go get the claws done now and discuss important things like nail polish with my nail Goddess, Kim.

Big Kisses,

Cult Diva