Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Anne Bancroft, Style Icon

























As August, the most dreaded month of the year for teachers and students alike, looms overhead, one can address such an unpleasentries in a variety of ways. First, capitalize on the last few weeks of summer by drowning so many scholastic sorrows in a Hawaiian Tropic/ Old English haze. Secondly, indulge in some good old fashioned schadenfreude and remind all your friends with real jobs that you aren't working and they are, even though their bank accounts probably aren't overdrawn from said base pleasures. Thirdly, design your fall style!

So my summer style and manera de ser draws on elements including but not limited to Valley of the Dolls, Lolita, Ocean Pacific surfwear circa 1973, kinderwhoredom, candy, coconut oil, skateboarding, and JonBenet Ramsey. Now that's all fine and good for the summer, whose resounding chorus of "I don't give a fuck" sets the tone of each daynightday, but fall calls for a more mature, demure look. And who better to be my guiding light of fashion than Mrs. Robinson herself.... the fabulous Anne Bancroft, R.I.P!

Not only did she make sweater sets, nude nylons, pencil skirts, and lotsa leopard sexy in a subversive way that I think actually gives the finger to the quasi Upper East Side/ Jackie Kennedy wannabes who borrowed from this look, Ms. Bancroft lived with style. That white streak in her hair that grew progressively whiter with her as she aged, those Cleopatra eyes, AND the most important accessory to any dame, the man on her arm... MEL BROOKS! While not a hotmaster, or even ugly hot, Mel Brooks, duh, is the man. I remember watching a 20/20 interview where she descried their relationship, saying something to the effect of, "I love hearing his keys in the door because I know the party is about to begin." Is that not the best kind of relationship, and the way one wants to be loved?! Okay, so these are the things I think about on days when I am premenstrual and have literally nothing to do. And now I am going to go see Brideshead Revisited, dump a bag of M and Ms in the popcorn, and have a good cry...

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