"THINK PINK! Forget that Dior says black or rust.
"Think Pink. Who cares if The New Look has no bust.
"Now, I wouldn't presume to tell a woman what a woman oughtta think/But tell her if she's gottta think -- think pink!"
Every movie fan worth his salt knows those lyrics, from the 1957 musical "Funny Face," performed with "bizzazz" by the incomparable Kay Thompson.
THIS snippet of film fabulousness was the kick-off to last night's honoring of Mary Kay Cosmetics at the Pratt Institute "Art of Packaging Dinner," benefiting the Marc Rosen Scholarship. (Marc is the terrific perfume bottle designer and longtime hubby of MGM glamour-puss Arlene Dahl.)
Deborah Norville hosted the glittery event celebrating the 25th anniversary of the scholarship. It has raised $3.5 million dollars.
Mary Kay herself -- a flame-haired Texas gal -- died in 2001, after building a phenomenal business based on "praising people to success." The women who went door- to-door with Mary Kay's paints and powders knew they could start at the bottom and work their way to the top.
And long before Oprah, Mary Kay was giving away automobiles. Cadillacs -- Pink Cadillacs! Of course, Mary Kay's women had to do more than sit in an audience and scream.
I KNOW "Mad Men" has fallen in the ratings recently, and its final season isn't getting much coverage that I can see. This is in large part because of AMC's bizarre habit of breaking the seasons of its big shows in two -- seven episodes this year, seven episodes the next. This enrages fans and kills interest and momentum.
However, everybody on the show is doing splendid work, and now that "Mad Men" inhabits the watershed year of 1969, there's so much going on -- computers, communes, sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll. (Although Jon Hamm's Don Draper still prefers to get drunk and risk career suicide.)
Last Sunday's episode had two great scenes with Hamm. In one, he glares with such deadly hatred at the upwardly mobile Peggy (Elisabeth Moss) -- once low girl on the totem pole -- that the screen almost melted. And later, furiously inebriated, he confronts a new computer tech: "You have the best ad campaign of all time. You are known by many names."
You haven't been insulted until Don Draper calls you "Satan."
TONIGHT -- Now, you all know I'm not much of a fan of reality TV. But I've been advised that "Catfish," which airs on MTV, is a cut or two above the rest. The third season debuts tonight. The show stars Max Joseph and Nev Schulman, and concerns itself with the pleasures and (mostly) perils of online dating. Entertainment Weekly puts "Catfish" on its "Top 10 Things We Love." EW says the show: "Might make you reconsider that sexy text you're about to send."
If only! (We should make allowances for foolish adolescents, but grown-up men and women still continue to ruin themselves daily with the technology of the 21st century.)
KUDOS TO New York Times reporter Jason Horowitz on his great front-page story on Sen. Rand Paul and media mogul Rupert Murdoch, who both attended the Kentucky Derby last week.
What a delicious and provocative piece of reportage! Everything from the myriad possibilities of Murdoch supporting/endorsing Rand in a 2016 run for the presidency, to what they drank and what horses they bet on and who was in their special box (Lucie Arnaz!) Equally luscious was the picture that accompanied the article -- Rupert giving the thumbs up to ... somebody. And there is Rand Paul, in sunglasses and wearing a fantastic hat, in Derby fashion. (Oh, wait, that's his hair.)
IF YOU thought CNN has shamed itself enough with the coverage of the Malaysian airplane tragedy, you were so wrong. The network's live feed of the White House Correspondents' Dinner was more fatuous and cringe-inducing than anything ever seen on Oscar, Emmy, Grammy or Golden Globe red carpets. Eventually, unlike the proverbial car crash from which you can't look away, I finally did. It was that bad.
The best thing that happened on CNN that day was an early report on the D.C. event between one of the anchors and author/reporter Mark Leibovich. He dryly commented that the evening was absurd, not even entertaining, and given the state of the world, a "troubling event ... I don't know why it continues to exist." Mark admitted he was probably attending: "I can't really say why, except for the free food and drink."
The anchor was blank with dismay. So much so that Leibovich finally said, "I'm sorry to have disillusioned you." But you could tell he really wasn't sorry.
I DID watch the show, later, without anchor interference. (On C-SPAN.) It is what it has become, and I have to agree things are too serious in the world to appreciate a lot of do-nothing politicians, blindly partisan pundits and faux and real stars getting together and pretending they are truly putting their differences aside. The president was charming, as he always is at these things. But I'm no longer interested in charm. Time is running out.
Joel McHale of E! fame was the evening's comic host and while I know it's supposed to be a roast-like atmosphere, I thought he occasionally left the oven too high. He's a very funny guy, but Joel was trying too hard to be controversial and memorable.
However, I have to admit, the embattled Gov. Chris Christie of New Jersey took his jibes in charming stride. Donald Trump could learn a lesson from Christie.
(E-mail Liz Smith at MES3838@aol.com.)
(c)2014 TRIBUNE CONTENT AGENCY, LLC.
AMC's 'Mad Men' still madly good!
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