by James Tuttle
As I was barreling somewhat recklessly down Olympic Boulevard toward American Idol’s finale at downtown L.A.’s Nokia Theatre last week, my friend Mary sat in the passenger seat, calmly applying her eye shadow. “My Gaaad,” she said in her lovely Mid-western accent, “Jennifer Lopez has probably been in hair and makeup for three hours already.”
Within an hour, we were only a few feet away from La Lopez and it looked like Mary had called it pretty accurately. Jennifer was stunning in long-sleeved beaded Blumarine, but Mary in her black strapless floor-length Rick Owens gown was no slouch, either, even if she did do her makeup in the car.