Real Girl Beauty

For every girl who's imagined herself as Lucky Magazine's "Lucky Girl." Or who's conquered her addiction to the bitchier-than-thou forums. Or who reacts every day to her Daily Candy email with the same: "Who can afford that?" Here are some heartfelt health and beauty tips from one Real Girl to another.

Monday, January 31, 2005

Indulge Me. Or…Not.

First of all, I’m thrilled to say I’ve just ordered this book, which was recommended to me by La Madgirl as every beauty maven’s absolute must-have. I am entirely certain that this wondrous book will provide endless Real Girl entries about which products we should all be rushing towards, and which we should be avoiding like an unrefrigeratored dairy section on the hottest day of August. The exalted Book of Knowledge should arrive chez moi in the next week and a half. I promise you, its pages will be pored over with the care that Tammy Faye Baker gives her bible, or—because who are we kidding—her mascara wand.

But in the meantime. I am asking your indulgence. You may chastise me after this entry. But I promise it will not be a regular pattern. And—hey, it’s linked to fashion! So, kind of fair game!

When Real Girl started this blog, she promised herself and others that she would not be filling its pretty pink background with treatises on 1) What was my day like today? 2) What did Paris Hilton do today? or 3) Did you see what just happened on *Insert Reality Program Here*? Because other people have that covered. I love them and read them as constantly as I wash my face with gentle cleanser. You can find some of these bloggers on my sidebar. They make Real Girl giggle. (And sometimes guffaw.)

So, it is with trepidation, but also much love and admiration, that I break rule #3. I have held back as long as possible. I MUST write about Kara Saun, of Bravo’s Project Runway, who is without a single doubt the best, most sanest, kindest, talented, decent, non-drama-queen, fabulous “character” to ever hit reality television. She is my total nonsexual crush. I wuv her.

First, about Project Runway: Oh My God, the addiction. And it’s on Bravo, so if you haven’t been watching, I’m sure you can find a marathon of episodes at least once a week. Basic premise: Stick a bunch of aspiring fashion designers in a workroom at Parsons, give them a wacky challenge, and expect them to finish in the time it usually takes to create a single sleeve. Oh, and axe one of them at the end of the show, because—duh. Let the mayhem begin!

The “breakout star” of the show has been Austin Scarlett, who wears more makeup than any of us and who, when he dances, looks like a piece of wet spaghetti. To him, I say: Eh. If he wins over my Kara Saun, I will infiltrate his make up bag and cut off all his lipsticks at the base.

Not only has my Kara Saun produced some of the best fashions (my favorites being This--to which the photo so does not do justice. And also, why the hat, Kara?--This, and This), but she also HELPS THE OTHER DESIGNERS. I am not kidding. How decent is that, especially in the world of Reality TV? Once, she made-over the annoyingly hopeless, conniving, and scary-ass Wendy to help her win that week’s challenge. And once, during the wedding challenge, when Rob’s model didn’t love her lace, Kara Saun tossed out a casual “Rob, wasn’t that lace really expensive?” before whispering to the camera: “Trick of the trade. If you tell the client the fabric is expensive, they’ll instantly love it.” How cool is she? And how much do I want one of her dresses? With whatever fabric she chooses! But I'm not the only one who's all "Ooh, Kara Saun, I loooove you." Michael Kors has as much feeling for KS as he can have for a woman. Betsy Johnson, too, gives the girl her props. And who receives all that heaping praise with aplomb and humility? Kara! Saun! Love! Her!

Now, the big thing with this show is to last until the “Final Three,” who will each get to design a collection for NY’s Fashion Week. We know Austin’s going to make it, because he’s the camera hog. And he cries. Loudly. While holding his girly hand to his mouth. Just below his carefully shaded cheekbones. But the second and third slots better the hell be given to my Kara Saun and to Jay—who we also love because he’s unable to bullshit and so says whatever the heck pops into his head. Because if Rob or Wendy get it? I will be on a rampage. I will be stomping myself over to the Bravo offices. And then Project Runway had better turn into Project RunAway pretty darn quick.

Erm...Good Lord, what has this show done to me?
(And do you--sniffle--hate me now?)

Real Girl