Girls On Film

TUTTLE MODE

by James Tuttle

Gentle reader,

Oh, shit!  I just saw a fucking Christmas commercial.  It had all the bells and whistles:  the sparkly white backgrounds, the tinkling music, a red faux-Valentino holiday gown and I think I even heard that jingle bell sound.  I’m now a little anxious that I haven’t yet started chipping away at my ridiculously long Christmas list but I’m going to take a few deep breaths and get back to this week, in which we haven’t even seen Halloween yet.

Smoking is always glamorous in an Ellen von Unwerth photo.

After the fabulous launch party at Beverly Hills’ Taschen bookstore for The Big Penis Book: 3D that basically put Pure Film Creative on the blogging map, I was determined to represent PFC at last Friday’s soirée for Fräulein, Ellen von Unwerth’s photographic study of sexy, fetishy femininity.  I felt quite pleased to have been invited to a party where it appeared that most guests had to shell out $1,000 for a beautifully produced 472-page monograph that included fifteen years of images of gorgeous women from Claudia Schiffer and Kate Moss to French First Lady Carla Bruni-Sarkozy and Christina Aguilera.

All the Single Ladies

TUTTLE MODE

by James Tuttle

Gentle reader,

You’re not going to believe this but there’s a new matchmaker show on the horizon.  That’s right, Why Am I Still Single?! is here!  The geniuses at VH1, home of quality programming like Mob Wives and Rock of Love Bus, premiered their answer to Bravo’s Millionaire Matchmaker over the weekend and, holy shit, it’s a train wreck.

Garrett Neff doesn't look like he needs a matchmaker. (Ph: J. Tsipoulanis)

The first thing we notice is that Patti’s competition is a pretty New Yorker named Siggy Flicker, which sounds like it could be Cockney rhyming slang for female anatomical parts.  She seems to have a good head on her shoulders, but attached to that head are the longest hair extensions in the Western Hemisphere.  One of the first things she says is “You can’t fake love.  You can’t fake passion.  You can’t fake chemistry.”  But you sure can fake your damn hair!  Who the hell thinks five-foot long hair looks good, anyway?  Crystal Gale?

You Are a Tourist

TUTTLE MODE

by James Tuttle

Gentle reader,

This may come as some surprise for our readers who check in regularly but I don’t have anything new to report from the world of reality television this week, unless it’s about a new show called “James Tuttle’s Stunningly Beautiful Holiday and What to Wear on It.”  Yes, I’m writing to you from sunny Mexico, where Scott and I have escaped for a week of fun and relaxation.  And, no, I don’t think any network would bankroll a show about me going on vacation, as much as I’d like them to.

Sebastian Rulli: Argentina born but Fame found him in Mexico

Our usual destination has normally been lovely Puerto Vallarta but we decided to try something different and settled on Los Cabos, though I began to regret this decision on the flight down because the plane was full of people that, to put it delicately, weren’t really the kind of people I was hoping to spend my holiday looking at.  Americans traveling abroad aren’t generally icons of grace and style with their enormous tee shirts and ill-fitting shorts and this bunch was no different in that regard.

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.

A Fashion Fairy’s Film Festival

THE KILLOUGH CHRONICLES

by James Killough

Yes, overly alliterative titles are cheesy and fatty, but nonetheless delicious.

Since the beginning of this blog we have had tremendous support from Diane Pernet and her A Shaded View on Fashion blog.  I began a fiction piece for her, then stopped when I couldn’t figure out where I was going with it, and I have a massive rewrite on another novel to finish, so I can’t wrap my head around… oh, whatever.  They’re all just the usual writer’s excuses for underperforming.

Diane Pernet doesn't just have a view, she has a vision.

Diane has been developing her fashion film festival for a few years now, and it really seems to be hitting its stride, or strut, which would be more more apropos of fashion.  ASVOFFF will be held this year at the Pompidou Center during Paris fashion week, from October 7 to 9.  Check out the awesome trailer:

Take My Wives, Please

TUTTLE MODE

by James Tuttle

Gentle reader,

I thought I’d venture back into treacherous HGTV territory this week to share my experience of the new series HGTV’d.  You see, hunky handyman Carter Oosterhouse was the featured designer this time around and there was a high probability that he might take his shirt off because that’s an important part of any television handyman’s job description.

Carter Oosterhouse demonstrates what real men use to trim their chest hair.

The show was moving along in typical HGTV style with the cheesy host, overexcited homeowners, and questionable design aesthetic.  I was able to keep it together because there was still, you know, Carter at the end of the tunnel.  Then, at the six-minute mark and very first commercial break, the perky host asked, “Can Carter live up to the homeowners’ expectations?”  This was immediately followed by a preview clip of the lady of the house screaming, “Oh my GOD! I LOVE it!” as she walks into the newly designed room.  Really?  I give up now.  Where is the suspense?  Where is the drama?  What’s the point of waiting around for another twenty-four minutes to see what they’ve already shown us?  We could be developing vaccines for rare diseases or watching porn or doing the many other things one does when not watching stupid home design shows.  I didn’t even stick around to see if Carter took his fucking shirt off.

I’m Zoe Over It

TUTTLE MODE

by James Tuttle

Gentle reader,

Everyone’s favorite anorexic superstar stylist is back for season four of Bravo’s Rachel Zoe Project and I don’t know how we made it so long without her stupid exclamations and her passion for fashion.  The big news is that Rachel is finally pregnant but, when we’re informed that her parents confiscated her dog because she and her husband Rodger were insufficiently nurturing pet-owners, this doesn’t seem like an ideal situation.

Stephen Bamber: This guy can’t steam either, but Rachel should, like, totally hire him. (Photo: R. Day)

She also says that she cried for two or three weeks when she discovered she was having a boy because she’d always dreamed of dressing up her daughter and sitting her on her knee at the Chanel show.  Rodger informs her that the baby is not a doll but she’s not having it.  “Yes. He is totally a doll,” she decides without a pause.  At least she’s happy now because she’s found really cute tiny boy clothes to dress him in.  Like, tiny leather jackets and tiny combat boots.  Bananas, right?

A Girl Who Can’t Say No

TUTTLE MODE

by James Tuttle

Gentle reader,

You know, I’d planned to share my thoughts about the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills and its second season premiere this week because I’m geographically in the middle of all that shit.  I frequently run into Lisa Vanderpump and her husband and I could probably offer a good perspective on it all, but it was just too weird.  Reality shows should not come equipped with suicides so I’d really like us all to put on a smile and steer clear of the whole mess.

To cheer us all up, here’s a picture of my friend Justin Adamson.

Say Yes to the Dress: Atlanta, on the other hand, was something I was able to dig into with a clear conscience.  It may be silly and mindless but at least no one dies.  It was also the only thing on in prime time over the weekend that wasn’t a horror movie or politics, which is lately becoming its own kind of horror movie.  And don’t get me started on HGTV and their genius idea of putting House Hunters on an endless fucking loop.  Who said that was okay?

Big Butts and Balmain

TUTTLE MODE

by James Tuttle

Gentle reader,

In honor of the Wedding of the Century that occurred last weekend, I sat down after a long day of working out and hiking to an E! Channel marathon of everyone’s favorite Keeping Up with the Kardashians!

As you've probably guessed, model Lucas Bernardini is not on Keeping Up with the Kardashians but he's fricking adorable. (Photo: V. Ljung)

Oh, yeah.  It wasn’t that Wedding of the Century with the royalty and the crazy hats.  It was Kim Kardashian’s wedding to Andre the Giant attended by reality stars and Lindsay Lohan.  One of our clients owns the house next door to the one where the event took place in upscale Montecito and reported that, in true D-list fashion, the party raged on until after 4 am.

Ho Down in Dallas

TUTTLE MODE

by James Tuttle

Gentle reader,

You were probably as eager as I was for this week’s premiere of Bravo’s Most Eligible Dallas, even with its clunky title.  Unfortunately, the pompous, self-important silliness in the introductory monologues makes about as much grammatical sense.  Within the first two minutes, resident ladies’ man Matt introduces himself with these memorable lines:  “If you want to hate on me for, uh, being a, duh, single guy…twenty-eight, uh…in town?  Fine, do it!”  What the hell?  No, Matt, people aren’t “hating on you” for being single or being twenty-eight.  They hate you for being a dick.  Also, your eyebrows are too far apart.  They might hate you for that, too.

Not a cast member. Unfortunately.

The other cast members don’t fare much better.  Glenn is a football player with an amazing body and a not-so-amazing face who, he tells us, has so much testosterone coursing through him that he can’t watch Family Feud with his mom without getting an erection.  Ick.  And Courtney looks like one of the big Kardashians—you know how Kardashians come in small and large sizes—and makes up words like “incestual.”