2016 … The Year Of Voting Dangerously, as The New York Times political savant, Maureen Dowd, titled her book from Twelve Press. A Pulitzer Prize-winning author, Maureen’s op-ed columns grab you by the throat with her whippersnapper prose of crisp sentences and punctuations. Read her faithfully, and you’ll be hooked by her scalpel-sharp assessments.
Also: The Year of the 68th Emmy Awards when Julia Louis-Dreyfus made history with her sixth Emmy for best actress in HBO’s Veep comedy. And New York Times critic James Poniewozik praised host Jimmy Kimmel for being both a toastmaster and a roastmaster, skinning a knuckle or two, and some knees, to boot.
Sarah Paulson took home the fashion honors with her emerald crystal-beaded Prada gown, while Kristen Bell, a presenter, also won fashion honors with her gorgeous flower garden frock by couturier Zuhar Murad. Mercifully, the ladies and their designers are getting the message that black gowns die on the television screen, as they do in print, even though actresses defend them as “slimming.”
As with every Emmy night, HBO’s after-party, a no-expense-spared hot ticket at the Pacific Design Center remains the main attraction where the glamourati hustle to see and be seen. Designer Billy Butchkavitz outdid himself with this year’s “Water” theme of heavenly blues. Nobody like Billy, the Pennsylvania-born maestro of high style who creates perfection.
This was The Year of New York’s raggedy-ass fashion collections, with skirts up to whoops and Marc Jacobs flaunting his Caucasian runway models with tangled, piled-high messes of blonde dreadlocks. C’est necessaire? Non. Creepy? Oui!
And The Year when PAC founder David Brock is panhandling for hard cash to buy “dirt” on Donald Trump. Desperados, indeed. Sadly, David’s minions are the true deplorables.
The Year when Jeff Bezos, owner of the Washington Post, came to his senses and decreed that, yes, health matters, after the breaking news about her pneumonia, while our presidential candidates duke it out. Who is healthier to stand up as Commander-in-Chief and breathe the foul air should they visit the scarred ruins of Manhattan’s horrific ISIS explosion.
She cancelled a speech this week in the battleground state of North Carolina, and needed help climbing the stairs at Temple University for an appearance.
The Year where we wonder what President Obama means when he’s telling our black friends to “do it for me” (vote for her, who has never forgiven him for winning the last election, not a secret by any means). Hate is more likely the right word, Colin Powell has whispered.
Whistleblower Julian Assange claims he has more to divulge about the scandal-prone couple. The Wall Street Journal’s Peggy Noonan reminded about the 30 innocent travel-department employees who were fired from their White House jobs the moment the Arkansas newcomers arrived for their eight years in residence. Investigating the staffers for what proved to be zilch.
Not to be forgotten: the damnation of the “right wing conspiracy” directed at that Capital Hill beauty who fell prey to a lusty libido.
The Year when Broadway’s big news is Bette Midler starring in Jerry Herman’s Hello, Dolly, with early tickets on a roar.
And The Year when Angelina Jolie filed for divorce from Brad Pitt. Six children, three biological and three adopted, with photographers buzzing that Brad’s chummy with the Oscar-winning Marion Cotillard of La Vie en Rose fame.
Brad and Angelina are rich. Brad’s estate is estimated at $240 million, plus properties and endorsements. Angelina’s is estimated at $160 million, also plus properties and endorsements. They both own Chateau Miraval in France worth more than $60 million. Both will be launching their new movies later this year.
They say, they say — and as the late Roddy McDowall once questioned — who are “they”? That Angelina’s involved in her own fun. And that the couple were comfortable with an open marriage. Muchas gracias, if you will.