Free, White, and 51

For the entitled few.

Ciao from Italy

Snapshots from our October vacation.

We're Off!

Yes, darlings, we're off on holiday! We've stockpiled some posts for you -- one a day, to keep the Mean Reds away -- so you won't be bored while we're gone. Arriverderci, loves!

Something We Dreamed Last Night

Waiting on the dock with Lucille Ball, boarding the Queen Mary with Eleanor Parker, escorting Joan Crawford to the ladies' lounge, enjoying a glass of absinthe in the bar, and listening to an older gentleman regale us with tales of seeing Nazimova perform as Salome. Really, just business as usual...

Weekly (Ha!) Feature #10

DISCLAIMER: This is a modified, updated version of an entry we originally did last year.

"J" is for...JOURNEYING.

With heartfelt apologies to ayem8y, we decided to forego jewelry as our tenth topic: honestly, our thoughts on the subject of gentlemen and jewelry are so terse and concise* (*In a word: don't. Unless you are as swankily chic as Niki de Gunzburg, or ayem8y [and so few of us are], take our word for it: you cannot carry it off.), that it hardly seemed worthwhile for us to devote an entire entry to it.

NIKI DE GUNZBURG BY HORST

No, what concerns us here is the topic of journeying - or, rather, what one wears on that journey. Once upon a time, people really did dress like Bette and Paul did when they went traveling: perhaps not as glamorously as they would have if Orry-Kelly had been designing their togs, but you get the idea: jacket and tie for gents, suits for ladies, hats for everyone.

FIRST PORT OF CALL: PAUL HENREID AND BETTE DAVIS TAKE IN THE BRAZILIAN SIGHTS IN NOW, VOYAGER (1942)

Somewhere along the line, people stopped dressing for travel. Nowadays, when we fly, we feel like weary, disapproving chaperones of a large combination slumber party and fraternity beer blast; the "ladies" all in pajamas, velour, and yoga pants, with the "gentlemen" in dirty tee shirts, shorts, and flip flops.

THE AMERICAN WAY OF GETTING PLACES, c. 1939: WILL IT EVER RETURN?

We understand, we really do. No one wants to be uncomfortable when they travel, particularly if it's a long international flight. Even if it isn't, dealing with surly security agents, cramped seating and endless delays can wrack your nerves. But that doesn't mean that any of us really want to see you in your pajamas, sans makeup. If we did, we would have married you.

OUR DREAM WEDDING TO AYEM8Y, WITH JASON, MISTRESS MJ, AND JILL IN ATTENDANCE

So, with your indulgence, permit us to share what we do when we travel abroad, which is typically a 9 hour flight. We normally travel twice a year, and our "uniform" rarely varies:

• Comfortable, well-tailored trousers in dark, tropical weight wool: black, or ideally, charcoal. They won't show wrinkles as much as lighter colors, such as khaki, would. And need we mention that they shouldn't be overly baggy (you'll look as if you're wearing a Hefty bag after a few hours) or fashion-victim tight (you'll have blood clots in your thighs after a few hours on a plane)?

• A clean, freshly pressed dress shirt. Stick with classic, basic white, or a simple check or stripe - nothing too loud or garish. Think worst-case scenarios here: would you mind wearing this shirt if the rest of your luggage never made it to your final destination?
  
  
• A lightweight V-neck or cardigan sweater. This is essential! For starters, the sweater won't show wrinkles nearly as badly as your shirt. Furthermore, airplanes can get ridiculously cold, no matter the season. Ideally, your sweater should be a thin wool or cashmere, which will better stand up to wrinkling.
  
  
• A coordinating sport coat. Should you be subjected to the nightmare of having your luggage lost, you at least will still have a sport coat at your disposal, which is a safeguard business travelers would be even wiser to adhere to. May we suggest the indispensible, classic navy blazer? Even on the rare occasions when we don't actually wear a blazer, we carry one over our arm. (It would also be wise to pack the most expensive shoes you'll be taking in your carry-on, along with a fresh change of underwear, a clean shirt, and a different pair of trousers.)
  
  
• In the spring and summer, a lightweight raincoat. In colder weather, an all-weather overcoat. These can be carried over your arm; packed neatly in your carry-on; stored in your overhead compartment; or, if you have a particularly accomodating cabin crew, hung in the closet for the duration of the flight.
  
  
• Comfortable shoes. This does not include flip flops or sneakers. Either driving shoes or very flexible lace-ups that are more pliable, and easy to get on and off, would be your best bet. As mentioned above, put the best, dressiest shoes you'll be traveling with in your carry-on.
  
  
• Small, travel- or sample-sized versions of face cleanser, moisturizer, toothpaste, and a disposable travel toothbrush. Also, a clean washcloth and a ziploc bag. Before landing, we duck into the lavatory, wash our face, brush our teeth, and throw the washcloth back into the ziploc. We also heartily recommend Fresh's Lotus Eye Gel, which instantly combats circles and puffiness; and Cosmedicine's Medi Matte, which battles shine like nobody's business. And both of these products are packaged in small, convenient, regulation-friendly tubes. Also, Visine eye drops are absolutely essential.
  
  
• Sunglasses. Because even with the eye gel and Visine, you may need them.
  

Put it all together, and voila! This is how we roll:

EN ROUTE TO VENICE'S LEONARDO DA VINCI AIRPORT

Of course, once you reach your destination, it is entirely your prerogative to doff your traveling duds and just relax:

We also make sure that we are scrupulously clean and pressed before ever setting foot on the airplane to begin with; and everything that we pack is also freshly laundered, cleaned, and pressed. For extra insurance against sloppiness, we also pack a travel-size iron and steamer. Don't laugh; but we do feel that when we travel, particularly abroad, we are, in a way, representing The American Tourist in general. If we can combat that largely negative stereotype in any way, we are glad to do so!

BON VOYAGE!

Rome is Eternal...

...but our youth, sadly, is not.

This past vacation gave us the shocking revelation that we aren't as young as we were 14 years ago, when we visited Rome for the first time. We were like Audrey Hepburn in Roman Holiday then; this time around, we felt more like Vivien Leigh in The Roman Spring of Mrs. Stone.

We flew out, as per usual, on a Thursday night flight, departing New York's JFK airport at 9:55 p.m., to arrive Friday at noon, local Rome time. It's the best way to do it, really; you can get all the little odds and ends taken care of during the day of your flight, and then, if you're lucky, have some semblance of a normal night's sleep while you're in the air. This time, we slept for nearly the entire duration of the flight - which was blessedly quiet, 99% of the travelers consisting of Italians returning home, rather than chatty American tour groups. After a quiet, uneventful trip, we breezed through passport control and baggage claim, and headed for our favorite destination in the world: the St. Regis Grand Hotel.


There really is no other hotel in the world like the Grand. The Gritti Palace in Venice comes awfully close, but the Grand still wins because of its unique combination of old world glamour, modern comfort, hushed professionalism, and unexpected warmth. When our taxi pulls up and the doorman opens the door for us, there's always a surprised, pleased smile, and a genuine "Why, welcome back! It's nice to see you again!"

By the time we had unpacked, freshened up, and changed clothes, it was nearly 3:30 in the afternoon. As anyone who's traveled in Italy knows, the Italians observe strictly set dining times: lunch is from 12:30 till 3, and dinner served only after 7:30 (at the very earliest). We had already planned an itinerary of favorite restaurants for our meals, and didn't want to spoil our appetite by snacking, so we did our next favorite thing to eating in Rome: shopping in Rome. The legendary Via Condotti, at the bottom of the Spanish Steps, is like Madison Avenue, Rodeo Drive, and avenue Montaigne in one glorious mash-up. It didn't take us very long to decide on our one purchase: a pair of a.testoni lace-ups in dark grey.

Our new kicks were from the lower-rung New Studium line, but hey, times are tough. And, frankly, these looked nicer than the more expensive lines. Anyway, gone are the days when we would burn the credit card up and down the Condotti, armed with enough packages and parcels to necessitate the purchase of another piece of luggage. With our single shopping bag in hand, we strolled the streets, headed toward one of our favorite sights, the Pantheon. By now, it was 5 p.m., and the hunger pangs were so loud, we were afraid that passers-by would hear them. The look on TJB's face in front of the Pantheon says it all:


Are those jowls that we see???

Right after this pic was snapped, it was back to the Grand, where we immediately crashed on the bed and slept for four hours. We then headed for dinner at our favorite Roman trattoria, Santopadre. The hostess, Dina, greeted us like long-lost family, with busses on both cheeks and immediately bringing out plates of our favorite part of their massive antipasti - savory polpette with carrot and red chili puree. Then it was on to chewy, perfectly al dente rigatoni with oxtail, and finally braised lamb shanks. Perfection.

There was also a complimentary bottle of very good red, which pretty much finished us off for the evening. In all the years we've been traveling, jet lag has never been a problem, and we've been able to walk the hilly Roman streets, eat with gusto, and drink more vino than we ever would at home, with no ill effects. Time, it seems, has finally caught up with our systems, and we were back in bed by 11 p.m.

The following day, we awoke with a burst of energy at 7 a.m., and immediately began taking in more of the sights, including the Vatican. We also returned to the Spanish Steps, and seemed to have left our jet lag behind us.

But, o jet lag, ye merry prankster! By noon, we were feeling a little weary; by lunchtime, we were practically falling asleep, face down in our soup. Next on the agenda: another four hour nap. We had officially turned into our parents.

Sunday was our last full day in Rome. We had had great meals, visited a few of our favorite sights, done a spot of shopping and enjoyed bright, brisk weather; but we had spent at least 24 of the past 48 hours asleep. The irony is that our minds and bodies suddenly seemed to snap to attention and gain some equilibrium on that final day; we walked from the Grand back to the Via Condotti for a pseudo-breakfast of espresso and biscotti at Greco's, strolled back to the Pantheon to have lunch, and then walked all the way up to the Via Veneto to visit the gorgeous Villa Borghese - and did it all without requiring a nap.

As the day ended, we lingered over our final cocktails in the Grand's quiet bar. It was bittersweet, knowing that we would be leaving the following morning, and realizing that while Rome pretty much never changes, we had. It was still wonderful being there, of course; but we kept wondering, what had happened to us? What we were grateful for, was that we had seized the opportunity 14 years ago to make these Roman holidays a reality. We'd done and seen it all, and had done it while we still had the energy and vigor - unlike, say, TJB's father, who went to Europe for the first time at age 64, and despite having a marvelous trip, was practically in traction when he came back from all the walking. In the end, we realized that our perspective and enjoyment of Rome had shifted and changed - mellowed, maybe, to the point where the greatest pleasures were simply sitting quietly over a limoncello, or the dazzling people watching while slowly promenading the streets.

And, of course, the warmth of the people - from the doorman welcoming us back, to Dina plying us with food and wine, to the funny and charming bartenders who remembered our table and our order before we ever sat down. The people never change, and that's why we keep coming back.

Packing Our Grip

September and October have been dreadful, darlings, with 50-60 hour work weeks keeping us from you. And we have truly missed you! We are off on a much-needed Roman holiday for the next week; after we return, the rest of this fall/winter season promises to be just as hectic as it has been, but we are determined to get back in the Stirred Up swing of things again. Thank you, as always, for your patience and loyalty; you guys make it all worthwhile!

Travelin' Light

Any place Miss Cyd Charisse hangs her mink is home.

Airheads

While we don't endorse the sexual debasing or objectifying of women, we do, however, admit that we secretly prefer stewardesses to "flight attendants," and think that kicky Pucci head bubbles should make a comeback. 

We also heartily champion cabin pressure-resistant hairdos; color coordinated flats and go-go boots; and (L-R, bottom row) hiring Joanne Woodward, Liza Minnelli, and Princess Anne as cabin crew.


But what we really want to see make a comeback are hunky ramp workers in tight jumpsuits, flattering vertical stripes, and suggestive hip-huggers. Thank you.

When the World Was Young

THANKS

THANKS

THANKS

Of Good Taste and Good Friends

Photography, hospitality, gentility, and general fabulosity courtesy of TOBY WORTHINGTON

We're Flying the Friendly Skies (A Go-Go)!

Yes, dears, we are packing our grip and taking a trip -- not over the weekend, obviously, but for a relaxing way to begin the week. Updates will continue as scheduled, but not at a great volume; use the down time to enjoy the Virtual Jukebox (Eydie! Blossom! Mary J.!), to contemplate the Meaning of Life, or to just throw back a few cocktails. (As if you needed an excuse.)

We'll save you a pack of peanuts!