baby kleptomaniac

When I was around seven or eight years old I orchestrated a brief but successful crime spree. It is clear to me now (and probably was even clear to me at the time), that I was just trying to get my parents' attention. I remember snitching packs of gum or lifesavers from the supermarket, standing right next to my dad as he paid for our groceries. He didn't see it happen. I did it a few times. I probably asked him to buy me gum and he said no, so I not only filched a pack, but had to chew it when he wasn't around, so that he wouldn't find out. But the incident that stands out most strongly in my mind occurred at Woolworth's. Obviously not satisfied with pinching sweets, I was attracted, magpie-like, to something sparkly — some costume rhinestone earrings. They were for pierced ears, which I certainly didn't have, and my mom didn't have either.


So what did I do with jewelry I couldn't wear? I put it on my large-scale bride doll (a birthday gift from my grandmother). Still no one seemed to notice. So one day I set myself up in front of my parents in the living room and started playing with the doll, waving her around, the earrings flashing in the sun. Finally my dad noticed and reacted. "Where did you get those?" I immediately became mum and must have looked very guilty. The truth must have spilled out (I don't remember how, exactly) as the next thing I remember we were on our way to Woolworth's. My furious father parked the car and told my mother to take me inside and make me confess my crime to the store manager. She took my hand and we walked in, me crying all the way. We walked around the store, circling the displays a few times. I stopped crying, not sure exactly where we were going. As we neared the jewelry counter my mom asked me to hand over the earrings. I gave them to her and she quickly tossed them in a basket with other costume jewelry. She pulled me away and said, "Come on." We walked quickly toward the exit, my anxiety easing. As we got in the car my dad asked her if she took care of it. She answered yes. "Did you learn your lesson?" I nodded. That was the day I learned how cool my mom was.

the magpie effect

previously published on Associated Content.

All that glitters . . . musings on the Rachel Zoe Project

I have always liked things shiny. Baubles, bangles and beads. Is that the reason I find myself, like the proverbial magpie, drawn to watch the Rachel Zoe Project? I share this impulse for bright things with the celebrity stylist, who said in her latest installment, (paraphrasing here) that "it doesn't matter how great the dress is, it's all about the jewels." Looking at the results of her styling efforts it's hard to disagree. The jewelry, which she considers "the most fun," was the best part if the show, and I suspect, the best part of her job. She actually looked animated, practically giddy as she sorted through tens of thousands of dollars worth of gaudy gems to adorn her clients, as opposed to her perpetual glum demeanor when faced with finding a designer gown (or just trying to get a sample delivered.) Trying to select the "right dress" is almost always agony for Zoe and her staff.

It would be easy to make fun of her, and her cockeyed world and its values. Many do, but what is probably most surprising is how willing Zoe herself is to poke fun of her image (which she is also so desperately trying to promote.) Watching her deadly serious depression at the LA "downpour" that might ruin her clients' red carpet moment—well it's hard not to snigger. But the tiny woman takes her job seriously and she does want her charges to look their best. It may be a superficial world that she inhabits, but it is true that a "great red carpet moment," the right dress (matched with fabulous baubles) might actually boost the career of an actress whose latest films may not have been huge at the box office.


Most of what Zoe does is behind the scenes, and I suspect, still off camera, as what the audience gets to see is a lot of worrying and kvetching, but not a lot of actual legwork or even schmoozing of new clients. The editing of the show wants to add the drama by hinting at troubles with previous assistant Taylor (drop that - she's gone and bringing her up is boring) and intimations of her marriage possibly suffering as a consequence of her pursuit of success. We are only two shows into the season and her husband Rodger is whiny and downright pissy about wanting to be a dad and his fear that her clock is losing ticks by the moment. There is also a lot of proclaiming on his part of his masculinity and weariness of always being surrounded by girls and gays (protest much?) Do we need this storyline? I might be a tad more sympathetic to "his story" and the human angle the show is trying to push if he didn't (I assume) let his wife style him with white flowing scarves and get his hair cut like Justin Bieber. Who needs it, just get back to the clothes.

No offense to the domestic discord or bliss that may occur in their white-on-white world (their furniture reminds me of Sex and the City's Charlotte and her horror that her husband Harry might sit his naked butt down on her pristine white furniture), but the real appeal, the real "story" of the show is the suspension of disbelief that Zoe and her career can actually exist and the vicarious thrill of imagining playing dress up with all of those designer samples. Even though she is proving her clout this year by trotting out some of her bigger-name clients (Demi Moore, Kate Hudson, Cameron Diaz), it is mostly the inexplicably eternally stressed Zoe that fascinates.

What was the most interesting moment of the second episode? After all the flurry and build-up of Zoe and crew to dress four women for the Golden Globes, after Zoe's frantic rushing around to fit each actress, she didn't hang around all the lights and cameras but quietly returned home in time to watch the pre-show on television, with her buds, just like any other fan, albeit insecure that her husband might make fun of her and her love of fashion (he did and does in his soliloquies) or not like her work (he actually was quite supportive.)

Suddenly it all seemed like one big dream. Is Zoe delusional? Did she really do all or any of what we just watched? Who's to say that Jennifer Garner didn't dress herself? It's the most ephemeral of careers to fairy-godmother these Cinderellas. No wonder Zoe has decided lately that she might also like to go to the ball.

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