April is the month of film festivals in New York, ironically drawing you into movie theaters as the weather improves and the cherry and magnolia trees blossom. I caught a movie Sunday night with friends at the tail end of Tribeca Film Festival. Lucky gal that I am, my job hooked me up with some tickets to a sold-out screening of Möbius, the Franco-Russian spy thriller starring Oscar-winning Jean Dujardin (he does crazy things with his eyebrows… please look at the Google Images results) and the stunning Belgian actress Cécile de France.
The movie is really good and I highly recommend it, but what I couldn’t get over was how stunning Cécile’s character was – the costume stylist was a frickin genius on this movie. She was elegant, sleek, but with a hint of casual confidence. Very Côte d’Azur with all the linen as well. I’ll be taking some cues from her onscreen wardrobe for this summer. I clearly need to head over to Façonnable and get my hands on on a pair of those glorious Garrett Light shades…
I am a weirdo that refuses to subscribe to cable TV however that doesn’t stop me from watching copious amounts of shows on iTunes and Hulu. I tend to watch them in complete addict fashion. Watching NON-STOP as is if not seeing how the story ends will cause me physical pain. Of course, whenever Agatha comes over I manage to rope her into the addiction as well. I even got her an Apple TV for Christmas to make the addictions that much easier to come by.
We are complete suckers for costume period dramas. Downton Abbey, Boardwalk Empire, Tudors, and Rome had us completely entranced. Now onto the next one. The Borgias. What better show to get addicted to on Easter then one about the Pope, intrigue and the history of all the Papal States. Nothing like watching the Vatican get raunchy. Agatha has avoided watching it with me so far because she knows what will happen. She will find herself at 1am trying to catch up.
Now that my Downton fix has ended for the year, and with a cliffhanger (although I knew Dan hadn’t resigned his contract so he needed to be killed off, I was just waiting for when), my Anglophile TV sensibilities were feeling a little bit abandoned. PBS is dried up, and as much as I love Revenge, it is not a great substitute for Maggie Smith’s dry wit.
Needless to say I was thrilled when I opened Town & Country’s March issue this weekend (pictured above) — side note: my magazine stack is overwhelming so I consider the timing with which I read this article to be truly serendipitous — and happened upon a feature of Czech-British playwright Tom Stoppard, who wrote the screenplay for a HBO/BBC miniseries called Parade’s End, premiering on HBO tonight. Based on four novels by Ford Madox Ford, the WWI-era saga follows a young soldier whose marriage starts badly and gets progressively worse, yet he is unable to separate from her or cheat on her even when he falls in a love with another woman… stiff upper lip and all that.
The acting is promised to be brilliant and the costumes look divine. Now I just need to hunt down a login to HBO GO so I can actually watch the darn thing. My good humor for the next few weeks depends on it.
I will be brutally honest here. I do not understand (read: like) football and I don’t want to. I only watch (read: unmute) the Super Bowl to see the commercials so I don’t appear to be a totally disconnected snob who has no qualms about switching the channel to PBS at 9 for Downton Abbey and feeling relieved not to be watching large men in bad color combinations throw themselves into piles for hours on end and mash their brains up, wrecking future decision-making abilities.
But this year, Beyoncé happened to the Super Bowl’s half time show and so I’ve moved from entirely dismissive to possibly accepting of this piece of American tradition to which I cannot relate. It was an incredible performance and I thank the forum that made it possible (I never thought I would put something like that in writing). She is an incredible singer (w/e to all the Inauguration doubters), but more than that, I think she has become America’s Sweetheart. I say this in all seriousness: I’m proud that she represents America around the world. I can find no reason to hate on or disapprove of her… even her stripper squats are so super fit, they just seem to be chaste models for the American woman’s new ideal body image (read: fit and firm, not diet skinny). Also, I just want to point out Madonna could barely pop back up out of her squats last year… bygones. These are the reasons why Beyoncé is topping my list of all-time favorite great American ladies.
– the exaggerated strut
– the fierce gaze
– the on-point dance moves
– the absurdly enviable thighs
– the leather and lace
– the brilliant smile
– the nude fishnets (buy stock ladies, buy stock)
– the girl power set (not a man on the stage)
And most of all…
– the gracious, geniune thank you
She says it in a way that you feel she realizes her life is amazing and is openly grateful to the fans that enable her success, something smug famous people seem unable to face.
That said, if one day Bey is revealed to be a raging bitch in real life, I will be extremely upset. No blog posts for weeks, crying at my desk… Ok, I won’t get carried away, but I might consider deleting this post. I don’t like being wrong.
Happy Monday! And make sure you strut today! (And if you missed the performance, please stop what you are doing (ie reading this blog) and watch it and then see all the awesome GIFs).
Image courtesy of Getty Images via Forbes