The Fashionable Colonoscopy

Valerie says: We already know there are two dreaded C words that we feel uncomfortable pronouncing.  (You know what they are, right?)  Last week, five years after we began this blog, we were reminded there was a third: Colonoscopy.

Every year we're supposed to get a pap smear, for which we lie in an absurdly undignified position with our Lady Parts exposed to passing breezes, while the doctor pokes and prods to make sure everything is okay Down Under (no, not Australia).  And every year we're supposed to get a mammogram, during which someone we've never met before matter of factly handles The Girls, and treats them like waffles in a waffle iron.

But these indignities pale before the indignities we suffer with the quinquennial colonoscopy, beginning with the dreaded Prep.  I have made my peace with this particular ritual because one of the C words shows up occasionally on my mother's side of the family.

Colonoscopies are distasteful subjects of conversation.  Even if you had a "good" one, no one wants to know what standards you employed to reach that conclusion.  Somewhere, in reading up on the prep drink one has to guzzle (enough to put out a small kitchen fire, I'd say), I came upon the phrase "high velocity diarrhea", which conjures up all sorts of dramatic visions.

I had never seen that adjective in conjunction with that noun, and I was a bit chagrined.  Right there you know it's not something you are likely to discuss with the bridge club, no matter how attentive they seem.

As all our readers probably know, the day before the colonoscopy, you have to fast, drinking only clear liquids.  Nothing red - not even Jello - because it might confuse the test results, which meant I couldn't even rely on my favorite drink: Naked Juice's Berry Veggie, a combination of cherry puree, beet juice, carrot juice, sweet potato puree and other things that are supposed to be good for you.  That day, of course, EVERYTHING reminded me of food. (Painting by Arcimboldo, 1526-1593)

Bananas at the fruit vending stalls appeared nearly Dayglo yellow, and all the food trucks that I'd never given a second glance to were suddenly terribly intriguing.  (Photo NYU Grads in Residence)

I thought I might want something in addition to Coca Cola, lime seltzer and orange juice, so I stocked up on Campbell's Soup.

Oh, sorry.  Wrong photo.

But you're not allowed to have any solids, so I strained all the wonderful noodles and bits of chicken out, and put them in a plastic container.  I figured I'd eat them in the evening after the procedure. I also bought a favorite flourless chocolate cookie the size of a small pancake, a bag of Wise buttered popcorn, and a bottle of Berry Veggie to take with me.  The whole procedure is only supposed to take an hour, from the time you put on the no-slip socks to the time you can get up to leave, and I was assured I could eat as soon as it was over, so I made sure to pack my favorite stuff as a reward.

I'm not going to say too much about the prep.  You pretty much know the drill, right?  The solution you have to drink - and drink and drink and drink - is kind of revolting.  Your doctor will always try to tempt you by saying it comes in several flavors now, but as far as I'm concerned, if champagne is not one of them, I don't expect to enjoy it.  I had to drink the full container I'm holding in the above photo twice - once at 3pm, and again at 9pm.  That's two liters, or one and a half of the large bottles shown.  I managed the first one pretty well, but the second took forever.  The fact that the prep container has a built in handle didn't make me look on it any more favorably. For additional information, please refer to the picture of Niagara Falls near the opening of today's post.  The above photo is a fanciful recreation of the prep.  I was not wearing a hat.  In fact, I was minimally dressed, in washable clothes, and sat on a large plastic bag, 'cause ya just never know.  (Happy to say I didn't need the plastic bag.  But Murphy's Law says I would have needed it if I hadn't had it, so I covered all bases.  So to speak.)  All in all, as long as it's once every five years, I guess the prep is okay.

The last time I had this done, seven years ago (two years too long, readers!), I was asked if I wanted to watch my own procedure.   I thought it might be edifying, so I tried (there's a screen you can see while lying on the gurney), but I found it dead boring.  I mean, did you see The Great Escape?  What do you think Danny the Tunnel King (Charles Bronson) saw while he was digging that tunnel?  (Hint: why do moles have poor vision?)

It's not exactly like watching The Fantastic Voyage, where an entire space craft is shrunk to the size of a pinhead (with Raquel Welch inside it) to perform microsurgery, and the space craft gets attacked by protective red blood cells, which have mistaken it for an alien invader.

And anyway, I knew there was going to be nothing in there for me to see.  That's what all the prep was for.  I asked the anaesthesiologist why I was offered the opportunity to see this procedure, but not allowed to see the neuromectomy performed on my foot (hidden from me by a napkin-sized curtain).  He pointed out that the neuromectomy had to be performed in a sterile environment - what would happen if I'd sneezed and there had been no curtain?  A colonoscopy, on the other hand was not, by definition, a sterile environment.  Point taken.  The anaesthesiologist attached three electrodes to me: two under my clavicle, and one on my left side to monitor my heart rate (I think) during the procedure.  Then they put me out, and I had a nice nap.  When I woke up, the first thing they did was give me a package of really nice cookies.  (Sorry - I don't remember what they were.)  The second thing they did was give me my test results.

The rules specify that you have an escort home in case you are still enjoying the effects of the anaesthesia, and very fortunately for me my friend Tim di Fiore, an opera singer, lives just three blocks away from the clinic, and is not bound by the rigors of the 9 - 5 schedule, so at 9am he strolled over and got me into a cab.  Just to be on the safe side, he took the taxi with me (maybe a ten minute ride in midtown traffic).  I felt fine, so I sent him back in the same cab.  I'd love to have a picture of that, but I didn't bring my camera with me to the clinic, so I've borrowed one of Tim's publicity photos.  I want to know who his photographer is.  The halo suits him.  Thanks, Tim!!

On arriving home, I read the report.  For the first time, I had polyps, which the doctor removed and biopsied.  There were three: two "small" and one "diminutive".  (Where do you draw the line between small and diminutive?  Is a diminutive polyp cuter than a small polyp?)  I was advised to make a return trip in three to four years, instead of the previous five, probably because of the polyps, combined with my family history.

Realizing my electrodes were still attached, as was my ID bracelet, I memorialized them in the opening photo. Then I took my huge chocolate cookie, my popcorn, and my Naked Juice out of my bag, and had a feast.  I'd taken the whole day off, but by noon I was ready to enjoy the rest of the day.  I think a guy would have watched taped football.  I did the equivalent for me: I went thrift shopping.

Readers!  Get it done!  Jean says she's due for hers, too, so you're in good company.

Montreal Formula 1 Grand Prix

Does this McLaren 650S make my butt look big???

Earlier this week, Jean was in Montreal for the Formula-1 Grand Prix and while there, could not resist playing her favorite game. There is something about fast, expensive automobiles that brings out this irresistible urge to compare bumpers.

Home away from home for the long weekend was the grande dame of hotels -- the Fairmont Queen Elizabeth, a huge ocean liner of an establishment right next to the beautiful Basilica of Mary Queen of the World. (That's "Marie Reine du Monde" for you Francophiles!) Official race programs and the Queen Elizabeth's commemorative hats were the complimentary gifts for guests. What was it about the big decorated head gear that screamed "hip hop"?  (She is also wearing her new black and white Carol Markel wooden bead necklace.)

First stop on Friday morning was the Museum of Contemporary Art's One-Plus-One show. In the atrium, David, Jean and Ken played "Speak no evil, hear no evil, see no evil".

The 3 musketeers from California are Jean's partners in crime for the car-centric weekend's festivities. Here are Greg, David and Ken at the track just before qualifying on Saturday afternoon.

Sitting in the grandstands in the bright sun can be a challenge. Sunglasses are a necessity and Jean's golf visor was the perfect solution for the glare.

The quartet always gets seats in the grandstand at the hairpin turn to maximize viewing time.  You can see the cars coming toward you, slowing down to make the turn in front of you and then speeding away on the straight-away.

Although Nico Rosberg and Lewis Hamilton from the Mercedes team were the two pole sitters and ran first and second for most of the race, Lewis had brake problems and did not finish. Nico also had brake problems but managed to finish second after Felipe Massa and Force India's Sergio Perez crashed on the last lap, which brought out the safety car and allowed Daniel Ricciardo to win his first Formula-1 Grand Prix. After the race, the crew stopped at the rooftop lounge at the Hilton Bonaventure Hotel.

Montreal is home to some amazing restaurants. This Red Bull F-1 race car was parked in front of the Ritz Carlton Hotel, right outside the entrance to Maison Boulud.

Once inside, the gang joined Joao, our Brazilian banker buddy, for champagne and an amazing dinner.

After dinner, the group headed to the Sofitel and encountered this adorable toy racetrack in the lobby, complete with a red Ferrari race car.

Dinner at Toque' on Saturday night was a gastronomic treat of the first order. The tasting menu was off the hook. Three friends from New York joined us, including Chris Wilford.

On the last night, for the trip to Mezcla for Latin cuisine, Jean broke out the ivory colored Bakelite.

The Gang of Four was joined by our dining partners from the previous evening. David & Jean-Jacques.

Greg and Kathy, who races her Mazda at Watkins Glen.

Ken and Chris, who also races his car at Watkins Glen.

OK. Jean wants to know. You be the judge!
Does this Lamborghini make my butt look big?

Does this Pepto Bismol pink taxicab (a/k/a "the Love Taxi") make my butt look big?

And for the grand finale: Does this butt make my butt look big? (Superman courtesy of The Deli Planet in the Gare Centrale's Gaucheterie.)

Yo, yo, yo. Til next time, Homies!

A Modern Rabbit Tale

On Easter day, we made our traditional pilgrimage to The Modern, that bastion of edible and potable delights where, after a hard day of being photographed, we had the great pleasure of receiving chocolate rabbits from The Modern's Manager, Dan Jones, above.

Not too long afterward, we had the additional pleasure of meeting The Modern's Executive Pastry Chef, Marc Aumont, who made the rabbits.  Taking center stage is one of his wonderful creations, below.

Need a closer look?  Yes, we thought so.  Here you go.

What Chef Aumont was too discreet to tell us is that the two bunnies are exact scale model replicas of Mrs. Ethel Bunny (nee O'Hare) and her adorable daughter, Barbara.  For the American history buffs among our readers, yes, that's the philanthropic Bunny family, the one that put down roots in America long before the revolution.  The same Bunny family without whose early largesse the Museum of Modern Art would not have been able to acquire many of the masterworks for which it is world renowned today.

We know this because we did a bit of research.  (That's why it's taken us so long to finish our Easter story.)  With the recent focus on couturier Charles James, a number of hitherto unknown Charles James letters have come to light in the Cecil Beaton archives, and one letter describes a pair of gowns that James made for Ethel and Barbara, most likely when Barbara turned 18.  Amazingly, the letter is accompanied by several photos.  These are of James' first drafts, not of the final gowns. This letter to Beaton offers some invaluable insights into James' creative process.  Here are a few snippets from the letter:

Ethel and Barbara present some interesting challenges, as you know, because of their unique proportions, but these have been worked out to everyone's satisfaction.  Young Barbara has little say in the matter, but Mrs. Bunny has good instincts and knows how best to flatter her daughter's figure.  (Did I tell you they look almost alike, despite the age difference?)  Mrs. Bunny is frightfully proud of the family ears, so I've done a huge portrait collar to showcase Barbara's.  The rest of the dress is fairly simple so the collar can stand out.  Spring green is good for a young woman, and polka dots are coming back in a big way.   I have been calling it the squid dress, as it has so many legs, and the big point at the top of the collar.  (The legs in the final version will have wires to hold their shape.)  Horst P. Horst was passing through on his way to Paris, and took this picture.  Very unlike his usual style, isn't it?  I do wish you had been here to take a few photos, Cecil. Mrs. Bunny would have loved to tell all her friends.

Mrs. Bunny is going with something much more subdued, but that is not to say she intends to fade into the woodwork. She bought yards and yards of a gorgeous antique silver lame on her last trip to Italy, and had it sent over.  A local manufacturer made me a copy to work with.  (Not nearly as lustrous or as marvelous to touch, but it gets the job done.)  Mrs. Bunny is inordinately fond of her tail ("And so is Mr. Bunny", she told me, eyebrow arched, when Barbara was in the next room), so I've given her a giant fish tail she can wave about instead of one of her exquisite hand carved cigarette holders, now that she's quit.   She initially had her heart set on one of my lampshade gowns, but I think this works quite well on her, don't you?

The Bunny family has a collection of huge baroque pearls which, according to the family lore, got snipped from one of Queen Elizabeth's dresses in the 17th century. They are first recorded in the accounts of Mr. Bunny's great great great great great grandfather, James Gardencarrot Bunny, a wealthy Boston shipping magnate, who passed them to his son and daughter in law in 1652, and all the women in the family wear them at least once.  Mrs. Bunny wanted to criss-cross her bosom with them, but there are so many that I've added them to the hem and the fish tail too.  After Horst photographed Barbara, Mrs. Bunny rushed into her dress to be photographed as well.  I had to pin it up in the back where the zipper is supposed to be, but you get the idea.

The letter then goes on to other topics.  There are no gowns like these in any known collections, so we assume they remain in the Bunny family, or possibly the Rabbit family.  (In additional research, we found that Barbara married John "Jock" Rabbit of the illustrious Rabbits of Providence.  She carried on her mother's philanthropic activities, had many children, and steadfastly eschewed the spotlight. The only other thing we found in public records was that in the 1960s, the Bunnys lodged a suit against Playboy magazine for unauthorized use of the family name. The suit was settled out of court, and details of the settlement remain confidential.)

Because the Bunnys are notoriously private, it is not known what the actual James gowns looked like, or where or if they were worn. Indeed, the family has not acknowledged that they own any James gowns. With the exception of the photograph below (part of the same letter to Beaton), no pictures of Ethel and Barbara together have ever surfaced publicly.  It is clear, however, that James had an unerring eye - mother and daughter do look very much alike, and it's no wonder they're proud of the family ears.

Inspiration / Aspiration

ROLE MODELS

If you've been reading us for a while, you'll remember this photo from one of our February Fashion Week posts.  We loved Jillian Mercado's look, but her look barely scratches the surface.  We just found out (we're kinda slow) that Jillian is the Executive Editorial Director of We the Urban, "a one stop daily news source for many internet savvy fashion enthusiasts".   But that's not all.  Fashion giant Diesel featured Jillian in an ad campaign which had already come out by the time we met her.  (Didn't we tell you we're slow?)  Modest Jillian didn't tell us that then.  If we're kinda slow, maybe (we hope) our readers are too.  Below is one of Diesel's ad campaign pictures.   That's James Astronaut at her side.  They both look fabulous.

The series of Diesel ads, called REBOOT, embraces and celebrates our differences. To read more about Jillian, click here and here.  To see more of the Diesel ad campaign, click here.

Bravo, Diesel!


So far, we haven't had the opportunity to meet Jacky O'Shaughnessy, who made a splash modeling for American Apparel in 2012 (discovered at a restaurant, we're told).  Big deal, you might say, until we tell you Jacky is now 62, and American Apparel recently featured her in a lingerie ad.  Isn't she marvelous?

Here's the picture that shows up most often on the internet in the current campaign.  Maybe because it's more demure and less controversial?  (Oh, and we'd like to point out Jacky's lush lipstick.)

To see a selection of the work Jacky's done for American Apparel, click here.

Kudos to American Apparel!

Silver Foxes: The Long and the Short of It

When we are out and about and run into other women of a certain age who have let their hair go grey or silver, we often ask to take their picture and save them for special posts like this one. Periodically, we reach a critical mass of photographs and gather them together into a post we like to call "Silver Foxes"! The recent Easter Parade was a wellspring of opportunity producing shots of many of the ladies in today's post, but by no means our only source. Our current edition includes shades ranging from dark gunmetal grey to snowy white and lengths ranging below the shoulder to close-cropped. We've arranged them from longest to shortest. Hope you enjoy.

Our first great looking lady, whom we met at the Easter Parade, had long, straight hair with the longest lengths in the deepest shade of grey verging on gunmetal, and the newest growth around her face coming in considerably lighter (more salt than pepper) which highlighted her face and smile. Her grey top, with contrasting scarf, accentuates her coloring.

Our second entry also sported long salt and pepper hair that she accented with black framed sunglasses and all-black-and-grey wardrobe.

Love this perfectly trimmed pony tail with insouciant hat.

This woman in front of Jadite Gallery has her long hair pulled back in a bun.

This woman's bangs and mid-length cut show off her showy white hair. Her green patterned scarf adds just the right jot of color.

The secret handshake!  Valerie got on the train and locked eyes with this woman, in from Santa Fe to visit her daughter.  Without a moment's hesitation we both started complimenting each other.  The train was rocking, so the photo is not quite in focus, but she looks great anyway.  Compliment a stranger!  Make somebody's day!

Another lady's parted mid-length light grey hair looked almost platinum in the bright Easter afternoon sun. Her black framed dark sunglasses and black dress provide a great backdrop to her silvery locks.

This woman, whom we met in front of Barney's, has very thick hair, and came up with the perfect haircut for it.

Ulli Hamer, by contrast, has straight hair.  Her hair style has some longish hair and some really short hair, just perfect for her bone structure and hair texture.  Ulli speaks very little English (she's from the former East Germany), but was very amenable to having her photograph taken on Madison Avenue recently.  She and her husband Ralph Penz are both artists, and had an opening several weeks ago at Jadite Gallery.  Ulli paints a lot of her own clothes.

We went to see Yoko Zaikawa's collection of avant garde hats last week (that's Yoko on the right, wearing one of her creations), and while there we met Seiko, who has the most marvelous spiky salt and pepper 'do.

This woman's side-parted short hair cut with understated earrings and white neck wrap is chic and sporty.  She also opted for a black and white look. It wasn't until Jean was sizing it for this post that she realized this photo is a trifecta, with shots of two additional ladies over the main subject's shoulder in the right of the shot. The nearest lady, with short nearly pure white hair added bigger earrings and big dark sunglasses to complete her look.  The lady behind her with longer, straighter hair with bangs wore her sunglasses atop her head.

We loved this woman's bangs.  They're cut in a completely choppy manner, but they look great on her.  And the lower level bangs are darker than the upper level bangs, and longer, so they're visible.  Remember that commercial? "Does she or doesn't she?  Only her hairdresser knows for sure."?  (Hint: if you're under 50, you probably don't, so don't sweat it.)  Anyway, we didn't ask if she does or doesn't (dye one or the other level), but we love the look.  Her man friend has pretty cool hair, too.

When we met Jean at the Outsider Art Fair earlier this month, we both complimented her on her very short, closely-cropped classic haircut. It can be a difficult look to pull off, but she did it beautifully. Her crystal earrings, light grey top and great short hair all draw your attention to her eyes terrific smile. Love those dimples!

And to close, a gent doing a no holds barred version of the wearing of the gray. You go, guy!