Mad Men in a museum and the art of wife-dressing

Where I open a museum exhibition on Mad Men and is faced with what could have been my room anno 1983. Except for Patrick Swayzee.

Not only has he been named the most influencial American man, in front of Obama, Don Draper and his stylish entourage of Mad Men is now celebrated by a Danish museum.

The socalled Tidens Samling, Collections of Time, a museum of 20th century life styles in Odense has invited me to open their new exhibition MAD ABOUT FASHION. It’s a tribute to Mad Men and I am giving the opening speach as a teaser to my lecture on the meaning of fashion on the tv show, and because of the occasion I am sporting an unusually high hairdo. Having been asked to dress circa 1960 I have been bobbed by the museum’s hairdresser.

The museum features rooms dedicated to the decades of the 20th century. I flip through Mao’s little red book in the 1970’s display and feel nostalgic in the 1980’s. It’s decorated with tiny pastel bicycles, and little framed postcards with paint brush motives and there is a blue plastic sun screen. This could have been my room in 1983, except for the poster with Patrick Swayzee in a tank top. I was into Nik Kershaw.

Now, like a great part of the 150 people present at the opening, I am into the Drapers, the center of attention at the small, but quite stunning special exhibition. Bilboards introduce the show’s main characters, flanked by selections of breathtaking dresses, suits and accessories dating back from 1958 to 1962.

A cocktail bar completes the picture as the attendants stroll among the tableau’s of vintage adds, women’s lingeri, corsets and nylons. It all makes me think of Draper’s famous line when he calls the slide operator that shows his family photos: ”A time machine that takes us back to a place that we ache to go back to”.

I begin with a quote from, not Mao’s little red book, but what could have been Betty Draper’s pink equivalent: The Art of Being a Well Dressed Wife.

”In any social situation, remember that you are an appendage of your husband, Adam’s rib that was separated from him to form woman and now spititually returned to his side.”

So begins the 1959 handbook on ’the art of wife-dressing’ and I aim to stress the changes since then by covering my cocktail dress with a black jacket, whose origin is more Don’s closet than Betty’s. My point being, that even if my husband and family is there with me, my task today is not to secure a man.

I introduce my lecture on fashion history from the Mad Men era to today and on the current use fashion to reach our goals in a time, where political leaders like Tony Blair and the new Danish minister of economy Margrethe Vestager have succesfully comunicated new agendas via fashion. And where Denmark now has a state leader whose trademark is a red suit and a pony tail.

Going home, my husband drives os onto the freeway, and the kids and I have a meaningful conversation on whether or not, in principle, it’s gross to have a butt.

You can read more about Tidens Samling and its new special exhibition MAD ABOUT FASHION at www.tidenssamling.dk

My lecture on the meaning of fashion in Mad Men will take place the 24 of november at 19.00. 

What doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger. Black comedy for models.

The quest to find ’Denmark’s next top model’ is back on tv, and the add for the program is all over Copenhagen, featuring a young blond model with a pretty pout. The tagline reads: ”What doesn’t kill you, only makes you stronger”.

I wonder if this is a reference to the French actress and model Isabelle Caro, who displayed her 27 kg in an anti-anorexia campaign by Benetton photographer Oliviero Toscani, and who died last year.

It brings to mind Kate Moss’ words: ”Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels”. Black comedy for anorexic models? Or just the diet tip to die for?

The new When Harry Met Sally?

I found the ultimate proof that genre lit can be truly great, when I read One Day.

David Nicholl’s describes his characters with such warmhearted and humorous authenticity, that I feel I know Dexter Mayhew, the spoiled charmer and the witty, self-underestimating Emma Morley, who accidently become friends in stead of lovers when they meet after graduation. Over the course of the years their friendship becomes the most important thing in her life, but also what keeps her from living it.

I love this book. For a still more cynical critic like me, (’I never watch tv anymore, only Emmy-rewarded drama shows’), that’s something. One Day commands me to remember to live and love, and I wont let it down. And, it’s hilarious.

Naturally, I was excited to see Lone Scherfig’s film version of the book, and I was not disappointed. Yesterday at the opening galla for the film in Copenhagen, I had the chance to watch it for the second time, and I was still not disappointed. Seing the film for the second time, I was able to pay attention to the reactions of a crowd of several top politicians, public figures from the art world and top A-list actors both laugh and sob as Em and Dex challenged each others choices and broke each others hearts.

It is a treat. To see Emma and Dexter’s subtly told and realistic-yet-grand love story interpreted in the same poetic and nostalgic, slightly dreamy, visual style, that characterized Scherfig’s beautiful An Education.

Anna Hathaway embodying Emma Morley was something that I had to get used to –  because her own star persona is so powerful on screen. But, as my husband said, ”as soon as she let’s go of the initial fidgeting she becomes more and more Emma and less Anne Hathaway.” He, too enjoyed the film and what he called it’s cool vintage look. Also, now, he gets why I cried my head off, reading the book.

Like When Harry Met Sally, One Day is a poignant and funny portrait of a self absorbed generation, concerned with too many life choices. Like When Harry Met Sally, One Day promotes the romantic idea of ’the one’, but ultimately it’s more about love in its different manifestations. How some are fickle, how some will make you grow.

I am not sure I will watch it as many times as I used to watch When Harry met Sally when I was a young single – back when that was so out of style – and almost always went to bed with a film. Sometimes I would be Taxi Driver for the 3rd time, sometimes I would be Moonstruck for the 8th time.

I don’t agree with Greta Scacchi in The Player, where she says ”Life’s too short for movies”. But it is too short for bad movies, bad tv and too much escapism.

(And if I watch something that many times, today, I promise you it will be Mad Men.)

Here's where we could have used Robin Williams' famous "Seize the day"-line.

Why 30 something guys hate Meryl Streep no longer

I am thrilled. I am going to interview Meryl Streep in New York and what better time to do this? Meryl Streep is cool, in fact, she is cooler than ever. I feel this in my gut, and have no problems convincing my editor at the women’s weekly to print her, even if they recently said no to Nicole Kidman (’Nothing’s really new with her’).

But, with Meryl Streep something has changed. I recall quite a few years ago when I tried to make my husband watch The Bridges of Madison County, and he was like ”Forget about it, I can’t stand Meryl Streep”. Luckily, my curiosity about this, was very soon after answered by the brilliant Danish writer Camilla Stockmann.

In a column in a 2004 issue of Eurowoman, which I found under my bed, she explained ”Why 30 something guys hate Meryl Streep”, based on a small but convincing survey.

”She is Body Shop and Birkenstock!” said one of her sources with references to the troubled mature women, Streep had made it her trademark to play. Another source elaborated:

”I think it has to do with men’s relationship to their mothers. Who wants to be reminded about your mom’s psychological and existentialist problems?”

My husband at the time shrugged this – and my smug grin – off. But recently I had the pleasure of reminding him.

In the spring, we spent a month in Spain, during which my husband had to return for a couple of meetings in Copenhagen. I was off from work, and enjoyed a rare privilege of not having to read or watch anything, because I had to write about it. Nor did I have to agree with my husband on the choice  of entertainment.

So, when not watching Sexo en la Ciudad on tv, or reading Michael Connelly, I would place my lap top next to the bathtub and relax after a fantastic day of playground-hopping in Madrid. And watch The Devil Wears Prada.

To my surprise, when my husband comes back, he suggests we watch my dvd. ”But you’ve already seen it?! Didn’t you once say you hated Meryl Streep?!”

”Well, she is so funny in this film,” he says.

Meryl Streep has gone from Karen Blixen and Sophie’s Choice, tormented women in times of oppression, to bad girls with power. She has kicked off the Birkenstocks.

Remember her in Rendition as the CIA executive and what she tells a pregnant Reese Witherspoon whose muslim husband is held illegally for ’questioning’?

”Honey, this is nasty business. There are upwards 7.000 people alive in central London tonight, because of information we elicited this way. So maybe you can put your head on the pillow and be proud for saving one man while 7.000 perish, but I got grandkids in London, so I’m glad I am doing this job … And you’re not.”

Now, she plays the bad girl with power par excellence – Margaret Thatcher in The Iron Lady. I can’t wait to ask her how she manages to become such a reputed hardass as Mrs. Thatcher.

Probably a lot of men, are just as curious as I am.

Ps. My husband still cannot stand Jodie Foster. What’s that about?!

Meryl Streep as The Iron Lady

Is it that great to be Gwyneth Paltrow?

So, it seems, Gwyneth Paltrow’s Venice Film Festival this year was rather similar to mine. Except, of course, she saw everything from the point of view of a star.

Looking at it from the other side, however, I am not sure it’s that attractive.

She stayed at the Cipriani, wore Michael Kors and had pasta pomodoro. I stayed in an apartment with friends, wore Marni and had pasta pomodoro. Still. She stayed at the Cipriani.

Maybe my newspaper could cut the China correspondent and I can stay at Venice’s ultimate luxury location next year? Maybe not.

Anyway, seeing as she has the figure of a 16 year old model, I hope for her sake, she actually ate that pasta pomodoro.

The thing is. She may not have the best rep in the movie business, and I while I will describe actresses like Sienna Miller, Noomi Rapace and Anne Hathaway as irresistibly charming and warm, I would say less of Mrs. Chris Martin after interviewing her in Venice.

Nevertheless, reading her blog, I come to think that her somewhat sarcastic attitude might be an occupational hazard.

Something her husband wrote recently – and which he wrote in their daughter’s doll house – comes to my mind from Coldplay’s tribute to the ever so ordinary guy Charlie Brown of the Peanuts:

”Be the cartoon heart. Light a fire, light a spark. (…) We’ll start glowing in the dark.”

Check out Gwyneth’s blog: http://www.goop.com/newsletter/142/en/

Hanging with Monsieur Louboutin

Where I get to hang with fashion’s most wanted man Christian Louboutin at his  Copenhagen launch party. Well, sort of.

It’s like watching an episode of The West Wing, or seeing President Obama stepping onto enemy territory. You can almost hear the secret service agents whispering ”Liberty is on the move” into their walkie talkies. But it’s not a president, who walks at a curiously fast pace, surrounded and followed by an entourage, as he enters the hallway at the Royal Danish Theatre.

It is fashion’s most wanted, or that at least his shoes may very well be, especially after Sex and the City brought fame to the recognizable brand. The man pacing up the wide staircase is Christian Louboutin, celebrated worldwide for his shoe design known for its red-laquered signature sole. And the only ones wanting to shoot him are the many photographers positioned on the location.

I am at his launch party for his new Copenhagen flagship, and we are all waiting for Monsieur.

He and his entourage quickly disappears into a closed V.I.P lounge, where my curious self is whisked off by a bodyguard. Back in the bar I consider the possibility of gaining back the price of my red soled stilettos in cocktails. However, a quick calculation reveals I would have to drink somewhere in the neighbourhood of 60-70 drinks. I settle for the new girly Carlsberg Copenhagen.

From where I sit overlooking the dance floor is a fair view of the fashion world, which makes the caste system of the movie business seem like good, wholesome fun.

I finally find my friend Ann as the dj starts to play Eurythmics and the some decent house. Suddenly, Monsieur Louboutin joins us on the dance floor.

Half of the guests have their picture taken with him, looking like … probably like I did in the presence of Al Pacino.

Monsieur L. snapped by a friend of mine.

The other day, I talked to a kindergarden teacher about child behavior. He said: ”The little ones often play with the older kids, without the old

er kids being aware of this. Because the little ones are happy to just sort of hover near the big boys when they play.” That sort of sums up the Louboutin launch party for me.

Meanwhile, whatshisname, a semi-famous tv host, is making his girl friend photograph him while he pretends to lick the balls of a naked male sculputure. ”That’s just his thing,” explains a girl next to me: ”He likes to pretend he is gay”.

I decide it’s time to leave, as a guy I’ve never seen before shows us a picture of him self with a bikini clad and very large breasted woman on a beach. And starts to demonstratively lick his iphone. This is a lot of licking, for some one who began the evening with Disney’s new Rio and had to leave for a work thing after tugging in two little boys.

I head home, and make a small detour. I buy a hotdog at 7-11 and before I go, I grab the new Ikea catalogue, which is piled in the store.

I walk to my street on bare feet, with my shoes in my hand.

Call me Draper … Don Draper!

Where I enjoy a Don Draper moment on Morning TV, and decide that rather than being a male chauvinist in the 60s, it’s cool to be a female chauvinist – for a day.

The camera is about to roll. I am wearing a slim fit, black Prada jacket and opt for an I’m-the-expert posure, which the designer chair I have been placed in, seems to be demanding.

Mad Men has won another Emmy and I am invited to talk about the success of the show, which airs in more than 70 countries and has sold over 70.000 dvd’s on Danish territory.

The male host of todays’ popular tv show Good Morning Denmark tells me he’s been called ’the Danish Don Draper’ by a journalist of one of our leading papers, and I congratulate him, a little envious, but still keeping my cool. Or whatever.

Then the show’s female host cracks a joke so dirty, I’m not sure she would want it repeated on my blog.

Now, I am not prissy, but I guess I hadn’t expected hearing the word ’pussy’ at 7 a.m. My ears perfectly match the red light on the camera when we go on air.

Six minutes’ talk on Mad Men pass quickly and I try to make time to at least state the obvious. How we buy into Don Draper’s coolness and how the women on the show struggle to challenge the extremely sexually charged male dominance at the work place of the 60s.

I feel the only thing lacking is a Lucky Strike in my hand and an Old Fashioned cocktail on the table.

Then – just like Don – I come home to find my spouse and my children asleep.

My husband has taken the nightwatch with our two-year-old (who thinks our home is a 5 star hotel that serves refrigerated milk on the hour), so I could get up before 6, and they’ve missed the show.

Somehow, this makes me oddly happy.

Why there are so many successful fashion bloggers

By the way. This reader comment to The Guardian’s article about Sarah Lund from the crime show The Killing, mentioned in the previous post, will tell you why there are so many more succesful fashion bloggers, than there are succesful film bloggers:

”I am not sure I can take that many hours of subtitles. The knitwear looks cute”.

Posted by HeatherUSA