Also a star in Italian comedies of the sixties and seventies, Fenech is adored world wide thanks to a prolific career that spans over 75 films. Here in the US, she’s slightly less famous, but has might have reached a new audience with a role in Hostel Part II.
I first became aware of her work while watching the dazzling and provocative trailers she stars in over at my friend Matthew's impromptu giallo trailer marathon. Her unique beauty intrigued me so I decided to try one of her many, many films. I settled on 1970's The Strange Vice of Mrs Wardh, which is highly praised film among the genre’s fans.
Aside from the work of Argento, I usually have a difficult time finding giallos that really work for me and while this one wasn’t quite worthy of this week’s movie slot, it was better than most and a total must-see if you do happen to love this genre. But even though it didn’t completely win me over as a giallo fan, it definitely won my heart thanks to its dimple chinned star (and it’s rugged villain–see this week’s hunk).
Fenech’s story doesn't end on the screen with blood splattered across her breasts, over the years she's gone on to become a pretty major player in Italian film production.
Mama Cass’s warm, beautiful voice will always touch my heart. Her rendition of Dream a Little Dream of Me was our wedding song and her slow romantic take on the Fabian Andre song can still bring a sentimental tear to my eye and get me a little choked up.
And speaking of choking, let’s dispel the rumor that she died by choking on a ham sandwich, a rumor carried on by our worthless celebrities like Adam Sandler, Robin Williams, and Austin Powers. It is simply not true, and unfairly it’s the only thing many people remember her for. It’s just one of the many times Cass totally got the shaft.
Let’s begin with Michelle Phillips, who stole Cass’ true love (Denny) just because she could. Sure Phillips was undeniably lovely, but she never had as much charm and vitality as Mama, and she obviously wasn’t as nice.
Not to say her life was all sad songs, she was a famous rock singer after all, adored by millions. And she was the member from The Mama’s and the Papa’s with the most successful solo career, spanning eight albums and producing the hits "Make your Own Kind of Music” and "It's Getting Better".
There’s so much to be happy about in today’s fashion, and I’m not talking about Italian Vogue fashion (though it makes me happy too!) but everyday-regular-girls-on-the streets-fashion.
More and more I see women in the subway or on their bikes or at my favorite bar looking adorable. Target and H&M have made it clear that style and affordability make great buddies, but the real person we have to thank for the marriage of the chic and the reasonably priced is Claire McCardell.
She’s not as widely known as she deserves to be, maybe because her clothes don’t tend to scream out their ingenuity or lack the fancy flair of her contemporaries (Chanel and Dior), but she's probably the woman most responsible for the way we dress today. She pioneered ready to wear and womens sportswear and we can specifically thank her for: the tent dress, the wrap dress (though Von Furstenerg perfected it), contemporary swimwear, the ballet flat, fake fur versus real, and the widespread use of denim.
We’ll forgive her for coining the phrase “comfort first” because she had no way of knowing it might turn into velour jumpsuits and rhinestone flip flops.
Ten years ago, FIT staged a retrospective of her work but she’s even more relevant today with Mad Men resurrecting the beginnings of her quiet revolution. Back in the 40's and 50's and throughout her whole career, she was all about freedom for women and a casual but perfect look that defied the tradition of more uptight French modes of dressing.
She’s also relevant today for her inventive ways to save on materials and use new ones. Back then it was the war time rationing, these days it’s the dying earth and sinking economy.
But, at least if we follow her example, we’ll look good when it all goes down.
I seem to have a soft spot for husky voiced little tough girls of privilege. I used to enjoy an occasional game of Scrabble with one back in Austin. She was scrappy and beautiful in an asexual way and she was constantly getting on or coming off prescription drugs and always teetered on the edge of something. Her tattered, semi-dangerous existence and my safe, relatively boring one fit together oddly but nicely.
Frequently nude actress Asia Argento reminds me of that old friend. I saw her once on the subway and at first glace I thought she was just another French teenage boy until a fan boy began fawning over her father–the famed and formerly absolutely genius horror maestro, Dario. It was very exciting once I realized who she was and since then, she’s become more famous in the US so when I tell people about my brush with fame, they actually know who I'm talking about. Unfortunately she’s got the Vin Diesel vehicle xXx and The Land of the Dead to thank for that. And about seven thousand naked photos.
Aside from having a famous body and tattoos, she is a strikingly good actress, usually the only spark of vitality and fascination in an otherwise boring movie (Marie Antoinette, anyone?) Right now she's starring in The Last Mistress and, while it's reported that she was a nightmare on set, word has it she gives an outrageously great performance.
Say it’s 1970, you’re a rock star (or want to be one) with a love for Elvis and the west. You’ve booked a show at the Whiskey and now you need the ultimate outfit. Rhinestones, fringe, embroidery, lurex, you want to look like a rhinestone cowboy–so you've got to go to the Rodeo Tailors: Bobby Nudie and her husband Nudie Cohn.
Her husband was the tailor behind the brand but, like most good women of the time, she kept it all together by helping to sew and design as well as business management–she also inspired the famous naked cowgirl logo when she appeared at her husband’s door one night clad in only a cowboy hat and boots. She kept that high, effervescent and fun spirit her whole life and dressed like a super star.
Sometimes the zeitgeist amazes me. I was just telling you lot about Who's Dated Who, warning you that lots of style icons were sure to come from it, and which lady catches my eye but the German sensation and raven haired beauty Uschi Obermaier (former girlfriend to Keith Richards, Jimi Hendrix, and Mick Jagger).
Next thing I know, I am flipping through Time Out and I read that there is a new fictionalized about of her life opening this very week called Eight Miles High. The article goes on to warn viewers that the movie has very little to say except to "Become a model, hang out with hippies, hook up with the Rolling Stones
and then go globe-trotting with a mystic, mustachioed adventurer" and there isn't much else I can add.
Obermaier was a lucky and stunningly gorgeous girl who happened to fall in with famous musicians and was outspoken about her sexual freedom... or so I thought.
I found out on further examination that Uschi Obermaier was also once a member of Amon Duul - the initial radical commune incarnation of (my beloved) Amon Duul II. Wow.
It’s practically impossible to not choose Miss Pamela Des Barres, groupie with a heart of gold extraordinaire as this week’s style icon after basking in her gooey, doe eyed sexualized optimism and freedom of her autobiography I’m With The Band.
I love her style, the way she bends to the fashions of the time (she once described herself as a willow tree bending with the wind in the face of jealous girls calling her a phony). And she just happened to bend with some awesome new fads. Top hats, chemises, fake fur, beads, feathers, Granny Takes a Trip, Nudies, glitter… and of course the best accessory – some gorgeous musician on your arm. In her case that has meant Noel Redding, Jimmy Page, Mick Jagger, and Keith Moon to name a few.
Sure, she was a groupie, a term that usually garners zero respect but in her own words it begins to sound like a ton of fun.
Penelope Tree is one of the most strangely beautiful faces of the '60s. She looked like an elf (which makes her totally my type) or, as hot boyfriend and famous woman eater David Bailey once said, like “an Egyptian Jiminy Cricket”. They met when he was still with Catherine Denueve, who reportedly saw a photo of Tree and told him “You’re going to run off with her,” before they had even met.
Discovered to a degree by the fab Richard Avedon who (unlike Vogue at first) thought her look was “perfect”, Tree ushered in the waif look along with Twiggy and lived the lifestyle of a spaced out hippie chick. While living with Bailey, probably to the horror of the lovely Deneuve, she painted the rooms in their house black and purple. She also reportedly installed a UFO detector, but considering that such a thing doesn’t exactly exist, who knows.
She was rebellious, defying her parents (a bisexual MP and a political activist) to become a model, running off with Bailey at age 17, shaving her eyebrows because she wanted “to look more like a Martian than I already did”, and dropping out of the whole fashion world when she was finished with it.
While some can correctly criticize her for bringing on an era of super skinny models, (she admitted to suffering from anorexia during her career), on a positive note she also redefined beauty and defied tradition. She was weird yet lovely, innocent looking but kind of scary and she mostly refused to smile at the camera. She looked like no one else in the world and liked it that way.
Honestly who of my generation didn’t grow up relating to Molly Ringwald? She was a teen heroine we could relate to. She was awkward and imperfect but smart and funny. I don’t know if girls today really relate to the shallow porniness of a Paris Hilton or the ragged party hardiness Lindsay Lohan or even the kinder, gentler sluttiness of Miley Cyrus (oh, and I am not talking about the Annie Leibowitz photograph, but rather the tart teen pop star image she walks around as every day that no one seems phased by.)
It’s hard to say if a pale, realistic teen like Ringwald would find a place in today’s environment, and if not - is it executive decisions or have teen girls just changed? Who knows. Perhaps these are bigger questions than my style icon of the week entry deserves.
Let’s just remember the fabulousness of Molly Ringwald, Sam Baker,Claire Standish, Andie Walsh… The girl who made her own prom dress, who gave a nerd her panties, who could put her lipstick on without using her hands, the girl that always got the kind of kiss we as red blooded American teens and pre teens always wished and hoped would be in our future.
While the soulful, magnificently beehived songstress Dusty Springfield never openly called herself a lesbian, in 1970 she stated, "Know I'm perfectly as capable of being swayed by a girl as by a boy.
More and more people feel that way and I don't see why I shouldn't."–which was a bold and daring statement at that time.
Both her privately rumored love affairs with women and her flamboyant personality have made her an unparalled gay icon, whether she wanted to be or not. Always a complex woman, she gained a reputation of being an often difficult perfectionist (she once said "I wouldn't know how to handle serenity if somebody handed it to me on a plate."). She suffered from serious problems with depression and substance abuse but was also known as a complete sweetheart, a cat lover, and a fun-loving, larger than life personality who enjoyed food fights and her fans.
