Doobie Brothers!

"Old Black Water.....Keep on movin
Mississippi moon won't u keep on shinin' on meeeeee

Pretty Mamma come and take me by the hand....."


I was so fortunate to have the honor of styling the world famous, legendary Doobie Brothers recently.

They are releasing new music in 2011 and I dressed them for their new music video "Far From Home".  We shot it at the historic Orpheum Theatre in downtown LA.  The song was particularly heartfelt for me as it's written about Pat Simmons' daughter leaving home.  It is sweet and nostalgic. I shed quite a few tears off stage as I watched them perform in awe.  These guys are rock stars, tried and true.   I was barely born and they were busy touring the world and drumming up debauchery.
Now, they are writing songs about their very own daughters leaving the nest. I guess time goes on and even rock stars grow up, huh?

I have NO idea how I could possibly wardrobe anyone as good as how they are dressed in this photo. Almost everyone I know is aware of the fact that I am obsessed with vintage clothes from the 70's.  This photo makes me swoon.
I worked to the best of my taste maker ability and shopped my tail off for these guys.
My stock of options was plentiful; from new to vintage, to vintage that wasn't too vintage that they would feel old when they tried it on.
Regardless.....they loved my work on the video and I have been asked to personal shop a little bit as well.  I have done some pretty cool jobs in my life, this definitely rates up very high on that list.
I mean, who doesn't love the Doobie Brothers?!!!!

That's me! Fixing drummer Tony Pia's jacket.
Freaking good times.

All Of My Love, All Of MY Love.

I wrote this a few months ago...and was too chicken to post it for some reason. Bok Bok!

Maybe it was too personal? Maybe it struck up too many bad memories. Now I am saying....what 

the heck.

Have u seen the show "Married to Rock"? On E!?
Its my new favorite thing. I want to bleach my hair blonde again and wear 

a massive padded bra just to fit in with them. I can find myself an over the hill rocker! 

Right? This is LA. 

Anyway, one of the girls is basically experiencing exactly 
what I did with her boyfriend. He refuses to marry her. And is quite frankly 
pretty mean about it. He is even a jerk about attending other weddings w her. 

She's always a bridesmaid and never a bride and has to be supportive of her 

friends getting married and smile thru her tears. 

She tries oh so hard to be enthusiastic for them  and does a great job of it 
even tho she's clearly pretty heartbroken. 

It's a cheesy show but there was one very genuine, tender moment 
when she watched her friend's first dance with her new husband.

Her eyes were so sad. She was broken. I could relate completely. 

I've been there sweetie. Quite a few times in fact. 

Try being a bridesmaid and 

making a speech about 'true love' at your best friends wedding a few days after your own 

long awaited engagement was broken.  Hiding the broken promise from all of your 

friends during the weekend of festivites

and wearing your diamond ring just so as not to create a stir.

Mind you, you and your ex (a groomsman) were the ones who set up the bride and groom

3 years into your own relationship.

Yeah, that's a blow.

This chick is actually one of the women that's quite stunning. Blonde, tall and rock 'n 
roll but not over the top.  Modelesque actually. She could walk the VS runway in my opinion 

and this curt, rude, wrinkley snobby, jerk won't make her happy and just marry her.  

Fine, he doesn't belive in marriage but stop being a downright asshole about it.

She's absolutely the most beautiful creature that man will ever find and she's 
really good to him. He's irritable- watches soccer and ignores her....is he 
really that bad? Or is the reality tv world just making him out to be so crabby. 

Regardless, I had it that bad. I lived the reality of it. I kinda wish I had cameras following me. 

My agents would be happy- cuz I would be a reality star and then could actually get a Host job in this business.

It seems as though you need to be a train wreck on reality to tv to host anything anymore.

That's a whole other chapter.

This is My Fav new thing ever...

Has anyone seen this show??? It is genius.

In their quest to have a supermodel body before they are hitched and an incredibly fabulous dream wedding 12 engaged women are competing in various "reality show-esque" wedding inspired challenges on "Bridalplasty".  It happens to be hosted by former Miss USA (and Miss NY) Shana Moakler, who directly affected my life many moons ago.  She inspired me to win Miss NY USA; it's a long story but I thought she was awesome, still do.

I have seen quite a few episodes of this show and each time I cannot believe it is actually happening.  Young women today are so completely insanely obsessed, fanatically at that, with having a gigantic and expensive wedding they will do anything to look the impeccable and entertain their guests to a flawless Utopian fiesta.

You get the picture right? Well....my absolute FAV part of this show is the last five minutes....

the elimination.

As each contestant(bride) is voted off....Shana sadly exclaims, 

"You have been eliminated. I'm sorry. Your wedding will still go on, it just won't be perfect."

OMG!! HAHAHA  That is the meanest thing I have EVER heard. They are sending these poor, insecure, infatuated and irrational women home, with few of or none of the plastic surgeries they went on the show praying to get....AND she says YOUR WEDDING WON'T BE PERFECT!!!! That's worse than telling these girls that they have a terminal disease.

The finale is coming up soon. Please check it out. At least just to hear that last line.

Merry Christmas!!!

Who sings "Blue Christmas" and makes toy guitars?

Elfis!


hehehe hohoho!

Salsa! AyAyAy!!!!!

69 years old. My Father just turned 69, like yesterday.
The man is taking Salsa lessons and KILLING it. So much so that recently his ballroom school put on a showcase for the holidays. All of their star performers got on stage and showed their stuff, from salsa to bolero to swing and tango. They asked my Dad to do a 4 minute routine as well. Big Stuff for a man who just started taking lessons a few months ago. Apparently he is the most improved student with the most natural dance ability.

My best friend Colleen and I attended the show.  We were eager to see the man we grew up with be the one on stage instead of in the stands cheering. We were there to support him, in return for the many years of clapping, yelling, and pushing us to be our very own personal best.

He was very serious when he danced. Very intense and immensely engrossed in what he was doing from his head to his feet.  Every now and then a huge smile graced his tan face below his salt and pepper hair.  Even the special felt bottom dance boots that he purchased just for his classes were shined up so meticulously you could see your reflection in them. 

He practiced with his partner during the open floor dance, I even had the opportunity to hit the floor with Dad. 
Then it was go time!  The entire school sang him a big, loud Happy Birthday to his surprise, then the music started. 

I cried.
I was in awe.

It was as much a defining moment in my own life as it was in his.
One of my closest friends lost her father recently, anothers has a degenerative disease. The infallible men we knew as little girls are becoming frail and sick. It is a huge encumbrance but inevitable. My Father is dancing salsa and I am so incredibly grateful for that.

He was so nervous. He wanted it to be perfect. It was.
I cannot seem to explain the feeling....but the best I can do is to say that it was really inspiring. Truly inspiring.
Not like loose definitions of the words amazing and  inspiring. Truly fucking inspiring.
If I have half the energy, chutzpa, pride, youthfulness, courage, dedication, and passion for something new  in my entire life, let alone at 69 I will be lucky.
If a kid can be proud of their parent....I guess that's what I am.




Dad and his Salsa partner Liz





Dad teaches me to Salsa



The Cavalli Family Christmas Tree

Merry Christmas everyone!
My fondest memory of this particular holiday stems from our yearly tree. You see, unlike most children we weren't allowed to decorate the tree, ever. Yes, I said..."weren't" as in were NOT allowed.
Upon strict instruction by my Mother, my brother and I were summoned to drag all the dusty boxes of decorations up from the dreaded haunted basement crawlspace but that was about it.
Oh! Until january 7th when it was clean up time. 
We were allowed to WATCH my Mom decorate the tree but HANDS OFF children!
You see my Mother is quite particular about her Christmas tree. It has to be total and utter perfection and it seriously comes out better than a tree in the window of Saks Fifth Ave.
It is breathtaking. 
She is even a pro at choosing the consummate bare shrub itself........ shape, smell, width, and height.
Vicki places each ornament with intense precision all the while presenting itself as an interesting whimsicial jumble with little effort.
Every now and then she would put a few candy canes on the sapling. My little brother and I would occasionally steal one of the tasty treats from the very back in hopes she wouldn't notice.
She would, without fail and she would scream her head off with that sharp British tongue,
"Who touched my bloody tree?!!!"
Sometimes we would even move ornaments around just to grind on her nerves. I kinda of wish I video taped her reaction.
From the moving angels at the very top, to the white glittery old fashioned sleds in the middle, to the hand painted Santa and village she personally created that lay on the white fur tree skirt, every single inch is flawless.
It was her project. We didn't miss out a second on not decorating. In fact, it still wows me to this day to watch her fluent cleverness throw the last bits of shimmering fake snow precisely on particular branches.  I am always ever-impressed.
There are quite a few remnants of my childhood left hanging up there, a 1978 reindeer that looks like its been dragged all over the world for 32 years......a silly little girl mouse in a green gingham dress that makes no sense at all....and a pair of gold ballet slippers.
I only hope to give the gift of such a brilliant, flawless creation to my kids. One that they can be quite proud of and I may even let them place an ornament or two up there, as long as I am in charge of where they put it.



True Romance

I don't have a washer dryer in my apartment. I got the apartment 7 months ago because it had a hookup for a washer and dryer. Specifically.

And I still haven't gotten one yet. 

So I've been going to the laundromat. 
My favorite part of the laundromat is the old people. Its like a casual meeting place 
for them. They chat and wash, and chat and dry, and chat and fold. They try to 
chat with the young people there as well. 
I find them so interesting. I imagine that they have some incredible stories to tell.

Today there is an old married couple here. They are folding thier crisp white 
sheets together. Teamwork at 88 years old. They are strangely silent and 
methodical about it. Looking into each others eyes and predicting the other's next arm 
movement to fold the queen size bottom sheet. They know each other so well they 
don't even need to speak. They are content in their silence and the constant 
swishing of the washers behind them. 
I want to take their photo so badly but I thought it might infringe on their 
laundry date. They leave and I am lonely for some strange reason.
Sometimes I think of the laundromat in a negative way.  I am not sure why but I

feel like it has a strange stigma attached. Am I right?

The thing is the laundromat is awesome. It actually takes the edge off a bit. 
Makes me calm. 
The constant sound of the dryers humming soothes my nerves in this insane town. 
It forces you to breathe and relax and wait. 
You certainly can't leave with a hamper full of soaking wet clothes. 

Wait. 
Wait. 
Wait. 
Calm down. Relax. You release yourself to the Maytags. 
You have no control until the cycle is done. 
Its quite refreshing. 

And romantic. Old couple is back...she in her hot pink fleece with bifocals 
hanging on a multicolored string around her neck. He, in a zip up grandpa sweater and loafers. Both with 
tufts of grey hair atop their heads.  They are folding the small stuff now. 
Silently. 
She just took off her fleece to reveal a denim jacket with kitty cats 
embroidered on it. Awesome. 

I keep contemplating trying to talk to them and find out their story. But I 
chicken out. Then she speaks to me!!! She asks to borrow a quarter because her 
husband took her pink coat w the change in it to the car! 

I of course lend the change. 
And she insists I NOT leave until she gives it back to me. "A quarter is a 
quarter. I owe it to you." she exclaims.
I say no worries and insist she would do the same for me. 

I am a bit embaressed because I am dressed like a slob. My Nana would totally reprimand me for my outfit 

and I am sure this Grandma was thinking the same thing.

"You are such a pretty girl, why are you dressed like a bum?"
When her love returns she requests that he re-pay me. He reaches into his sweater pocket and pulls out 

a dime. "Whoops, I don't want to shortchange the lovely young lady" he says. 

I want him to be my Grandpa. 
They are standing watching the dryers now. Kind of impatient for old people I'm 
thinking to myself. But I guess the minutes matter more to them. 
They stand there. Staring. Watching the clothes go 'round and 'round.