PARIS IN CHARLESTON

I got to see Paris last night. It was beautiful and sophisticated and all I thought it would be. And it was much closer than I thought… right in Saks. The Paris I’m referring to of course is the name of a beautiful long Grecian gown in Badgley Mischka’s new line which debuted last night. To celebrate its entry in our local Saks and to benefit Darkness to Light, Badgley Mischka strutted its Resort 2008 collections down the runway at the Riviera. These events put Charleston on par with any other swanky city… we could have just as easily been in New York or Miami, or even Paris. The crowd was a who’s who of the beautiful, important, and/or society upper echelon of Charleston. Everyone was dressed to the nines and took some fashion risks that paid off: sequined pants, feathered top hats, mini-mini dresses, white lace-up slouchy boots, and politically incorrect fur. It ranged from the young and perky, like little miss South Carolina (is it weird to obsess over a 16-year old’s figure?), to the intellectually stimulating and sophisticated, like Pam Harrington who always looks sharp in a tailored suit and blunt haircut, to the outlandish, like the woman we’ll just call Magda. I was on the front row, the perfect place to spot all the models’ flaws. There was one awful model who could not walk to save her life and must have been a charity case of some sort, but the others were great – little miss South Carolina was a natural on the runway (maybe she should do that and not speak), there was an Elizabeth Hurley look-alike, and my favorite was the sophisticated brunette, Erin, who looked like she was having so much fun that I wanted to jump up there with her! And the clothes… ah the clothes. Classic, romantic, bold colors, soft lines. Tres bien! The after party at Saks was humorous as all of us “regular” people tried to squeeze into sample sizes and rub elbows with Mark Badgley and James Mischka. Thank goodness the champagne was practically being sprayed directly into our mouths. Then came the moment of truth: to purchase or not to purchase. I could spend $5,000+ dollars to wear Paris, or I could spend it to go to Paris. I decided to hold out for the trip, although one more glass of champagne and it could have been quelle buyer’s remorse. J’adore Badley Mishka! J’adore a good fashion show! J’adore Charleston!

Badgley Mischka Fashion Show: 3 ½ panties.

Stay-At-Home-Wife-To-Be

This may sound ridiculous, but it is true. As many of you can remember, I am the engaged Go'Diva. So my fiancé had requested that I become a stay-at-home wife and just care for the home, him and the at some point children. Well, I've always valued my independence as a woman and I feel like because so many women before me fought for my place in society, I would always continue my economic contribution to that very society. Well I'm planning a wedding, so I thought this would be a good time to practice not working and staying at home. I've been at it now five weeks and it's miserable. I feel like my PA (personal assistant), who I've temporarily let go since I should now have the time to take care of personal matters. All I've done since taking my 12 week leave of absence from work is run errands, for me and my fiancé, screen calls from my extended family that know I'm no longer working and take my car to be serviced. How do women manage that stay at home? It's like you're always on call and you're always expected to be able to go to the grocery store to pick up a bag of Caesar salad mix. I mean, come on. Have you ever been to the grocery store when all those hideous stay at home mothers are pushing the carts around with several children, some with dirty fingers and faces and you're supposed to smile at their precious fur-less pets because I must be a mother too. Oh no, I'm at week five and my PA is back on duty and I am doing things that make me happy for the remainder of my test period. Traveling, oh how I love traveling. Sailing, even though the weather has not been cooperating lately. Of course I even managed to fill two entire days with hair and body appointments...the greatest of all, I’ve been able to get back to the blog which I’ve neglected these last five weeks.

Needless to say, I am going back to work and have no intentions of satisfying my fiancé by being his stay-at-home pet.

Pack Your Tiny Diamond Duck Purse - We're Going to a Garden Party!

How wonderful are Charleston garden parties? I mean true, honest-to-goodness, old fashioned, South of Broad Charleston garden parties. I went to one on Tradd Street. Dressed the part of course – sweet white lace sundress and pearls – and entered into a sea of bow ties, seersucker and more pearls. Mint juleps and champagne toasts. Chocolate covered grits (which were not tasty, but certainly inventive). Even the dogs were sophisticated – Cavalier King Charles. And of course it couldn’t be a true Charleston garden party without a sprinkling of a few people bathed in arrogance. When asked where he was from, a good-looking Southern man with flowy blond hair couldn’t answer “Virginia,” like a normal person, but had to give the pompous and seldom used answer, “The Commonwealth of Virginia.” As hard as it was to keep my eyes from rolling, I had to keep talking to him to study exactly how he said “South.” It was more like “Sauuuuth.” Beautiful really, almost rich South meets Britain. I’ve tried to slip it into my daily speak, but people just mainly look at me strangely. How did Madonna do it?

Charleston garden parties = 3 upscale, legs crossed at the ankles, pinky out, Lily Pulitzer panties (on a four panty scale).