Glamour: a Reminder

Hollywood, California, 59 years ago today:  Miss Edith Head revels in her own personal fabulousness - and (as was its wont) Life was there.

Oh, I know, I know - she couldn't sketch, she couldn't drape, she couldn't sew.  But the fact remains that she made the stars look good, and some of them she made look better than they ever would again.  And she was as self-invented a creation as any of them, won more Oscars than any of them, and ruled her domain (first at Paramount, then Universal) unchallenged for four decades and more.

Today I feel like borrowing a little of her stardust (if not a length or two of that dotted tulle - too divoon!), for truth to tell, we've had better runs of days than these last few.  Mr. Muscato has caught my cold, which continues, and both dogs have pitched in with their own ailments, gastric in nature and challenging in a rented home that disastrously features wall-to-walls.  It was not, I fear, a Memorial Day to cherish, chez nous.

Still, it was nice to be home (however besmirched a home at times it was), and the Mister made soup (several, actually - the latest is a remarkably good chicken-corn-egg drop), so all's not wholly bleak.  It may be a while 'til I feel up to Edith's exacting standards, but perhaps that's just as well - my dotted tulle days are pretty far behind me...