For Valentine's day we were invited to dinner with friends of ours who have an interest in a new restaurant. Celebrity investors. Celebrity chef. Celebrity friends. The restaurant that is, not our friends.
The idea of a celebrity chef cooking in the kitchen got Lyle all hot and bothered and we had to cancel some plane tickets to be there then we would fly the next day. But it would be so worth it!
Then the writer's strike ended and The Celebrity investor had to cancel. And perhaps because of that The Celebrity Chef decided to not come and cook either. A little disappointed, we hoped at least one Celebrity Friend would show up. At last our prayers were answered - in walked Paula Abdul.
I am always dumbstruck in front of celebrities. I just go all mush mouth. And I must freely confess before I get busted that I have viciously mocked Paula in all her appearances where she seems a little, how does one say it politely?... "more than legally happy"?
In fairness to myself I almost always follow up with either a Southern style disappater of "Bless her heart," or more commonly, "Well, say what you will she has more of a career that I do."
So in walks Miss Paula. She hovers in front chatting with a few guests. Then she heads our way. Just Lyle and I. Standing apart from all others. Completely anti social outcasts.
And as she goes by she turns her head and says, "Hello."
Undaunted by celebrity, Lyle pounces and strikes up a conversation, "How are you?" And just like that, we're off and chatting!
I tell her how nice her blouse is with its red and black pattern running through it especially paired with her red leather jacket (cut very asymetrical with studs - think Thriller video). How nice it was of her to wear red for Valentine's day. Paula opens up her red leather jacket to reveal that the lining of the coat matches the blouse. That always brings out the Stacy London in me, "Shut Up!" I shout, "That's so cool!"
"Not as cool as your jacket," she tells me. Now I have to share, and I guess its a post of all true confessions by me. I was wearing my father's Black and Blue satin tuxedo jacket from sometime in the late '70s. I'd had it altered to fit about a year ago but had yet to wear it. I've seen many similar jackets back on the racks in stores this past year so I knew it was once again au current but trust me when I tell you, that for a number of years there in the middle it was also known as hideous. I paired it with a solid black shirt and black Roberto Cavali tuxedo pants (thank you H&M!). It was a great outfit. But I was warned by Lyle before going that I was to stop telling people it used to be my dad's in the 70's. All I could say to Paula was "Aw, thank you... uh, it's um, vintage."
This is the infamous jacket in the 80's worn ironically with white patent shoes and a tiny bow tie for a tacky costume party.
Then Paula moved on and chatted with others. She was kind and gracious and her date for Valentine's Day was her mother.
At the end of the evening she was leaving and I just couldn't get the courage to ask for a photo. She was so tiny and so nice. I was so disappointed that I couldn't find something crazy to write here about her. Paula if you're reading this, let's get together again and get goofy. I'd like that very much.