Goddesses, Nymphs and Tramps

TUTTLE MODE

by James Tuttle

Gentle reader,

Allow me to apologize in advance.

You see, I’d already had quite a day.  For some reason, I took a hike in the Hills even though I was already dying from leg day at the gym.  Then my spray tan was accidentally set at level two.  I always use the lowest setting for completely natural looking color and never get clocked so this was potentially disastrous.

Tanning: Brazilians do it better (Photo: L.Luna)

Then, after an hour of negotiating a steamy L.A. while trying not to sweat—because, of course, perspiration is the enemy of the faux tan—my favorite bartender Kevin made me a couple of strong margaritas at St. Felix Hollywood as I navigated the dearth of images streaming in from the Paris shows.  So you’ll understand that when I finally plopped down in front of the television Sunday evening, tired and a little fuzzyheaded, VH1’s Tough Love: Miami seemed like a really good idea at the time.

Every Clown Has a Silly Lining

TUTTLE MODE

by James Tuttle

Gentle reader,

It took me a while to get around to finally seeing Bravo’s new show Million Dollar Decorators because the commercials for it were so awful.  It looks like a bunch of douches with dueling egos who don’t even know each other outside the show pretending to do some fake design projects for the benefit of the cameras.  Just name it “Real Housewives of Interior Design” and call it a fucking day.

What recession? The stars of Million Dollar Decorator have BUDGETS, baby.

The show actually begins Housewives-style with the five pretentious Los Angeles-based interior designers making grand pronouncements and then posing awkwardly while crossing their arms and stuff.  The attractive Jeffrey Alan Marks proclaims, “I don’t follow the trends, I set them!”  Well, he was attractive before he opened his damned mouth.