I see from this photo taken at the London premiere that SJP has already started with the seriously crazy:

As the granddaughter of a milliner I have to salute that hat. I really do. Sarah Jessica Parker is a fashion crazy woman and I love her for it. I love that when Maxim magazine churlishly named her the Unsexiest Woman Alive that she laughed it off and said that she wasn’t trying to be sexy. She’s crazy fun.

Kim Cattrall, on the other hand, doesn’t go far enough. If you’re going to wear the old Red Queen costume from my freshman year production of “Alice in Wonderland,” by all means carry a sceptre and wear a CROWN! If anyone can carry that off, Kim, YOU can!

Cynthia Nixon is a seasoned Broadway actress; she knows how to handle these things. But look at Kristen Davis’ strained smile. Poor thing. She’s just willing Kim Cattrall not to slap SJP silly for that chapeau, but I’m not sure it’s going to work. Cat fight! Cat fight!

[Thanks to GoFugYourself.com for the photo]

But seriously, it’s rather depressing, no? Is it too much to ask that when companies say there are no toxins in their products, they might be telling the truth?

Thanks to BoyInTheBands for sending me this news item. Let’s see how this develops.

Thanks to Miz Claire for the link.

Princess Caroline of Monaco. Daughter, I believe, of Grace Kelly. The mind reels. What can we learn from this? First: tailored and elegant is always a much better bet than crazy and flouncy. Save the crazy and flouncy for senior prom. Second, this is also an issue of scale: if the body is swathed all in one dark color, and then one carries a tiny, bright bag, one looks absolutely enormous by comparison, as if one is carrying a Barbie accessory.

P.S. I swear I saw that exact bag at Filene’s Basement a few weeks ago.

She’s been wearing her hair the same way forever, but it’s such a timeless style, it just works. It’s soft, full, swept back from her smashingly gorgeous face, and colored a soft auburn. Her eyebrows are penciled in so you can see their expressive, elegant arch. The lips are colored a soft rose-mauve (no big gooey glosses for our Miss Andrews!), lots of mascara to frame the eyes, and best of all, she seems to have had no plastic surgery. The skin is sagging — let’s say softening — where it should be softening on a woman of her years, and her bearing is regal. She is getting, if anything, more beautiful with time.

Her voice is still the cultured voice you remember from your childhood “Mary Poppins” viewings, with that wonderful gravelly undertone and throaty laugh that reassures you that although she’s a piss-elegant Brit, she’s got a good cache of naughty jokes and drinking songs in her repertoire to go along with “Do-Re-Mi.”

She was wearing a dove gray suit accessorized with big square earrings to highlight her face, a thick, classic, flat gold chain around her neck and a soft, ivory chiffon scarf tucked into her suit to soften its tailored lines. SWWOOOOON!!

Her posture and open, attentive expression is a thing of glory and should be studied by us all, men and women. As a singer, Julie Andrews knows how to keep her “mask” open; the part of the face that would be covered if you wore an old-school masquerade ball mask. All ministers should know how to open their mask, as it energizes the expression and makes you look more alive, aware and present.

How to Open The “Mask” of the Face:

Sit in a chair, slightly slumped over. Let your face totally relax, and even settle into a bit of a frown.

Now, pretend that you are Julie Andrews about to teach the Von Trapp children the first notes of the solfege. Sit up straight, but not ram-rod straight. Remember, you’re Maria, not Captain Von Trapp. Taking both your hands, lift them in a gesture that an orchestra conductor might use to signal musicians to pick up their instruments. Let your face open as your hands open. Your skin will feel pulled back, your eyebrows and eyes wide open but not in an alarmed or forced manner.

Practice in front of a mirror until you look poised, present, fresh and attentive but not like a deer in headlights.

P.S. Singers, you already know how to open your mask, since you know we can produce no rich sound without doing so. Teach your friends.

All clergypersons, when presiding at worship, should have an open mask at all times except perhaps when praying. There can be no embodied, relational worship if the presider does not understand or know how to produce an open mask and supported breath required for all good public communication.

For those of you with young daughters, PeaceBang extends her condolences. It must be a HELLA challenge keeping your mouth shut while they go about dressed in these outlandishly revealing items.

Just about knocked my bonnet right off my head when I saw those. Sakes alive.

I watched most of an “Oprah” episode yesterday where she had on two fashion experts whose goal was to help frumpy women in their 30’s, 40’s, 50’s and 60’s keep from dressing “old.”

They did have some great advice, such as
1. Just because it still fits doesn’t mean you should be wearing it.
2. Dressing old (as in old fashions) makes you look old, and (in the words of one of the experts) “clueless.”
3. As you get older, show off your shape through excellent and flattering fit, not by revealing skin. The older you are, the less skin you should be showing (not that this means covering up from neck to toe, it just means wearing opaque stockings with the shorter skirts, etc.). Getting older = becoming more elegant.
4. Highlighting your waist is always a good idea, says Stacy London of “What Not To Wear.” Get the line of the bazoom where it should be through the judicious use of effective undergarments and draw the eye to the natural curve of the waist. If you truly have no waist, draw the eye to the lovely swanlike neck, or to the face, or somewhere else, I suppose.

HOWEVAH, many of the make-over outfits were really awful, ugly and what I would call “try-hard;” that is, they looked nothing like what a normal woman would wear for a normal day of work, running after kids, etc. It was more like, “This is SO FIERCE! I am a Hollywood fashion person and I live in total unreality about what an actual middle class woman can wear and afford, and also in total unreality about what actually looks good! Listen to MEEEE!”

Some of the pieces were admittedly terrific, but it was FAR more the hair and make-up improvements that made these gals shine than the new clothes they were sporting from Nordstrom and Saks.

The moral of the story is that there are a lot of self-proclaimed experts out there who are in bed with the clothing manufacturers and designers and whose bread is being buttered by the fashion industry. It is therefore in their best interest to persuade you that a huge, wide, patent leather belt over a chunky sweater is JUST THE THING you should have right now, or that really, a BIG PONCHO will truly highlight your fabulous yoga figure if you wear it with “figure-skimming” white pants and a fitted t-shirt that probably cost $175.

PeaceBang, on the other hand, gets ZERO dollars from anyone for writing this blog, for advising her readers, and for testing products. Her bread is being buttered by her church and only her church, with occasional gifts of thanks coming in by PayPal from those grateful for her advice and caring. Which is why, if PeaceBang ever seriously advises your wearing a big ole poncho or cape over tight white pants, you can bet she has seriously considered its usefulness for your lifestyle, your image, and your pocketbook.

It had to be said, so I said it. Kiss, kiss.

Viva la drag queens! There are many who are dear to my heart, but I have learned today that actor Patrick Swayze, the creator of one of my dearest and most inspiring drag queens in cinematic history, MISS VIDA BOHEME (from “To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything, Julie Newmar”) has pancreatic cancer. I just want to say here that I sincerely wish Mr. Swayze healing blessings, and want him to know that for me, he is immortalized in his creation of Vida.

If you want to read more, I wrote about this over at PeaceBang blog, too.

Gentlemen. Tuxes. To be worn with black dress shoes. Not … suede brown loafers to match the bad piping on the tux that should not be there in the first place. But it’s Daniel Day-Lewis. We forgive. Miz Miller. Gorgeous. Talented. There is no earthly explanation for the gown (did those flowers come from the set of “Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory?” Are they CANDY?). But, Lord give me strength, do I see wacky, ziggy-zaggy black and white pointy-toed pumps peeping out of that hemline?

PeaceBang feels a little faint and invites us all to offset the potential cosmic disturbance caused by this ensemble by dressing in extremely classic, elegant outfits tomorrow.

(Thanks to www.GoFugYourself.com for providing the full head-to-toe exposure.)

Also a study in absolute elegance and soignee gorgeousosity from across the pond, I give you the incomparable Helen Mirren, who looked even more splendid this year than she did last (and who thought such a thing was possible?):

(THAT’s how you wear red lipstick, kids, and she looked much better on the stage). Cameron Diaz, get on out of town with your drunken pronunciation, inelegant carriage and your death-colored lipstick. Step out the way and let the real stars show you how it’s done, honey.

As for the rest of the crowd, we were a bit tired of seeing so many black gowns that reminded PeaceBang of a community theatre production of “The Merry Widow.” Penelope Cruz, I’m lookin’ at you. Jen Garner’s was nice, but I’m not so into the tatty bottom thing.

Tilda Swinton can do whatever she wants in my book. She’s a true fashion eccentric and she’s riveting. Anyone who could casually turn her Oscar speech into an absurdist riff on George Clooney’s “Batman” era has my attention and respect. She’s a big, weird, fabulous clothes hanger of a woman with some of the greatest bone structure God ever gave to one woman.
Also a winner in the “Know Thyself” PeaceBang Tribute is writer Diablo Cody, a former exotic dancer who won for Best Screenplay for “Juno” and who did a sort of Pebbles Flintstone look for herself. I LOVE that she shunned a pair of famous designer shoes as a “cheesy publicity ploy” and opted for gold flats.

It was unfortunate that the minimally-talented, over-exposed Anne Hathaway made her presenter’s appearance in a de trop red gown
only to be followed by the luminescent Katherine Heigl in a second memorable red gown. Heigl may as well have had a banner across her chest reading, “HERE’s how you do a red gown, Hathaway!” Indeed, Miss Heigl. Indeed.

Jon Stewart did a marvelous job, and the cutest moment of the evening was when he brought the adorable little songstress from “Once” back onstage to give her a chance to give her acceptance speech without being cut off by the infernal Bill Conti (love ya, Bill, we know you’re under strict orders from the producers — but in the future, cut off gushy Julia Robertses or Halle Berrys or whining, indulgently weepy Gwynny Paltrows, not sweet girls from Ireland who still have some perspective about themselves and what the award really means).