"Something That Would Pop on TV"

AnA's patron saint, and once the paternity test comes back, birth mother, Madame André Leon Talley will grace the airwaves in 13 subtle Chado Ralph Rucci cloaks. "Something that would pop on TV", as opposed to his everyday wear.

The occasion is suitably epic as he has deigned to appear on America's Next Top Model, or as we like to call it here at the AnA loft, Yelling Nonsensical Things at Skinny Girls and/or Smiling with Your Eyes with Ty Ty Banks.

The show, it seems, has finally stepped up its game and so has Mr. Banks. As she told WWD, “I am wearing a chignon every single day. I went back to Yves Saint Laurent 1991, honey. I said, ‘This is André Leon Talley! No earrings, no nothing. Just me and the gahhment.’”

Well at least she recognizes the serious coup she's pulled off. I can't say I'll miss those unflattering weaves and wigs, especially since Wendy Williams is still on the air.

As for the winner of this show actually living up to the show's lofty title and appearing in Vogue, (besides in an Olay ad, natch) well, Talley puts it this way: [T]hat’s not my decision, that’s Ms. Wintour’s."

In other words , Hell to the No.

Oh hi...

Precioussssss…

Enjoy your stroll while you can, Wang Chung. You may have escaped the sartorial purgatory that is the ceremonial cinching of bridal bodices, but do not dare forget to whom you are in debt.

The tithe is high, Wang. And is payable on receipt. In accordance with our deal, I expect the head of Mischa Barton on my doorstep in the morning.

I doubt she will be missed.

Dammit, Coddington, get your damn ginger hair out of my face! I’ve had it up to HERE with you upstaging me.

Yes. Everybody Wang Chung tonight.

Oh hi...

Now pay attention, I'm only showing you this once. It's all in the movement of the hips, which should be nonexistent if you hope to work anywhere near this industry. Note my nonchalance, the ease with which I glide across the ground. You can't tell from where you're sitting, but I'm actually hovering 3 cm off of the ground. All editors-in-chief possess this power, except that awful Joanna Coles from Marie Claire. I mean, really, they'll let anyone in these days. But if you want to ascend to the highest of heights, children, you must first master the art of a graceful saunter. My swag is incomparable. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got to wrangle some boring starlet for our next mediocre cover.

Just 'Cause Akimbo // Aphrodite

Boring Akimbo

The commercial Cameron Diaz grins across American Vogue this month in a rather unstylish white ensemble cinched with a leather belt. The Green Issue could have gone any number of ways so why flounder again, Anna, with this washed-out mess? Celebrate the environment with vibrancy, color and eccentricity!

American Vogue Akimbo // Lakshmi on Vacation!

With all the flurried discussion of the MET gala and models, AnA wishes to turn to a recurring topic here at the Akimbo loft: racism and tokenism as seen in American Vogue. This time around, let's consider the Faces of the Moment issue and the location story in Goa with model Lakshmi Menon, current runway star and Ricardo Tisci muse chez-Givenchy. Strangely titled "India Are We," the editorial has Lakshmi smiling and dancing in practical summer ensembles among India's impoverished; it should be called "India Is She."

The story lacks any clothes by Indian designers in favor of Anna's go-to European and American minions. So much for covering India's burgeoning fashion industry. Lakshmi has appeared one other time in American Vogue -- in a story about "new" models - although Lakshmi is in her late 20s and came West after a long career in India.

Landing a one-girl story is huge but did Anna pick Lakshmi because of her beauty and status or because Lakshmi is the only Indian model on her radar? Why not send a white girl to India? Why not book Lakshmi for a studio story stateside? AnA can report that various recent beauty and fashion shoots for Vogue -- including a MET-themed story shot by Arthur Elgort -- do not include Lakshmi, although she did attend the Ball. Hopefully Anna will keep using the girl. Until then let's enjoy her off-kilter face, masculine shoulders and large jaw in other ways!

Oh Hi // Met Akimbo

Oh hi. Check your humility and trains at the zebra-print door. Welcome to my Ball.

Or did I mean "Tear Drop," in honor of my print on my Chanel Couture gown. Cinched at my waist, a 23-inch natural wonder that gives me control of one of the largest museums in the world and those who enter my exhibit. So what if I do not invite Azzedine Alaia, one of the greatest living designers, despite his decades long devotion to models, and thereby uninvite his supermodel muses? It is my bidding. So what if I demand that models must wear knee-length dresses? Those who challenge me by going floor length will perish.

AnA is compiling an extensive recap of the Gala festivities. We're a little fatigued from attending last night's Rodarte dance party co-hosted by one Jess Stam in SoHo; luckily the pre-dawn walk to the AnA loft with one Paulina Porizkova pepped us up! More to come!

Met Musings Akimbo

With the MET Gala just around the corner, what will everyone wear?

AnA's well-placed spies report that one leggy ingenue known for an irregular catwalk may score big points by wearing Marc Jacobs (as supplied by Anna Wintour's army). Roland Mouret is also rumored to be dressing a brunette bombshell to escort on his arm. Expect various muses and mannequins, especially from the house of Versace, to crawl out from under third world rocks to attend this one! AnA will roll into the ceremony half in the bag, with Grace Jones thrown over our shoulder, and frocked in Dior Couture from Spring 2007!

Wintour Akimbo // Revamping

With all the talk of the decline of American Vogue -- and rumors of Anna Wintour's departure from the masthead -- let's take a look at her attempts to mix up the content. First: more multi-girl editorials.

Yes, Vogue now has these two black girls -- Liya Kebede and Jourdan Dunn -- in the model rotation along with multiethnic teen Chanel Iman. A mighty group of three, they join Anna's go-to legion of Nordic blondes and chubby Brits. Anna still does not approve Asian models. Also not changed is the easy styling, which infrequently mixes different designers in favor of straight-from-the-runway looks, and the penchant for jumping and movement that Vogue photographers love. Here's a spread from the new April issue:

AnA loves metallics, leggings, skinny limbs and miming. A bit tired, no, because doesn't everyone do it? Remember any 90s editorials from American Vogue?

This 1992 editorial is listed under "epic": Steven Meisel, Marc Jacobs' legendary collection for Perry Ellis, grunge, supermodels, combat boots and hunches. It's sexy yet androgynous, glamorous and filthy. American Vogue definitely has the artistic goods to deliver to its readership. Whether Anna remains the editor who can make that happen is debatable.

You Will All Die This Horyn Of Wintour

Karl Lagerfeld sent out an army of trademark Anna Wintours the other day in honor of his most famous fan: the wig’s namesake has featured his clothes in American Vogue editorials, across its covers, and on the stunted backs of some of Hollywood’s Biggest.

There is something wink-wink about this when considering Karl’s less-famous fan, Cathy Horyn, the New York Times journalist with the honey voice who once famously wrote an exposé on the editorial habits and preferences of Wintour and her staff . This week Horyn mulled, sans her expected jubilance and enthusiasm, over this Wintour-y collection and the designer’s “fascination for monolithic backdrops and bold, if puzzling, silhouettes."

Horyn is in the midst of a Lagerfeld book project, rumored to be a biography. Could Lagerfeld be personally noodging to the Horyn-Wintour duel? Or perhaps he’s just paying respect?

Either way, Heir Lagerfeld, here’s to thinking creatively outside the box:

Hell hath frozen over...

Anna Wintour (sans glasses) smiles...twice. WTF?

xoxo,

Linda

La Wintour/Costume Institue Party of the Fucking Year

Imagine my suprise when my eco-friendly limo pulled up to the Met the other day, my slightly ungainly daughter swathed in roll-hiding tulle sitting beside me. Where was my chariot? Where was the escort? A tad bit of whiskey kept in my ram horn hip detail, I saw you were the last to arrive. And with that tennis playing beast in tow. Where's the loyalty.