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slave to zep

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Dear ladies of the Forum,

I am coming to the end of this Judy Greer book I am reading and today there was a funny chapter that I felt not only would some women here be able to relate, but since it deals with her going to the Oscars in 2012 and this being Oscar weekend, there is a connection in that regard, too. For those unsure of the name, Judy Greer is a redheaded actress who usually gets stuck playing the quirky best-friend or sister of the lead female character in countless rom-coms. She was also in "The Descendants", "Three Kings", and "Dawn of the Planet of the Apes"...and in the tv show "Arrested Development". Most recently, she has been ubiquitous in those bizarre Sprint "Framily Plan" commercials.

Anyway, her book is "I Don't Know What You Know Me From" and this chapter is called "Bad Oscar!"

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In 2012, I was invited to the Oscars because the movie I was in for thirteen minutes, The Descendants, was nominated. As it turns out, I don't kill it at the Oscars. So many embarrassing things happened in the course of an hour I almost don't know where to start.

Actually, I definitely know where to start: my dress. It was lent to me by the designer Monique Lhuillier, and it was pretty amazing. It was tight, black, and altered to fit my every curve, and there are a lot. It had a thick stripe of silver beads down the front. Tiny little silver beads. Those fucking beads started it all. My very first step on the red carpet, someone stepped on the hem of my dress and the beads just started unraveling. Everywhere. I'd like to take a moment to tell you what a red carpet at the Oscars is like, in case you don't know. Imagine standing in front of bleachers on a high school football field. Now imagine the bleachers are full of people wearing black. Imagine they are all aggressively screaming your name and "Over here! Up here! In the front! To the right! To the left! Move out of the way! [Your name here]!!!" as loud as they can. Now add to that image their cameras all flashing together. That's close, but not as intense. The noise is deafening, and the flashes are blinding. Back to me...So there are now a hundred little silver beads on the carpet surrounding my dress, and Jessica Chastain is on the carpet behind me. She was nominated, so people were already screaming out her name. I was starting to get trampled due to the fact that I couldn't move because my publicist was on all fours in front of me trying to sew my dress back together and stop any more beads from falling all over the place with the tiny sewing kit she kept in her purse for red-carpet emergencies. It was really hard to hold myself together; I couldn't believe it was happening. I am not cool; I wanted to cry. It was the Oscars, possibly my only Oscars, and my dress was falling apart right in front of my eyes, right in front of everyone's eyes, and there was a woman on all fours in front of me as celebrity after celebrity walked past, looking beautiful and confident, wearing dresses that were able to stay in one piece for the twenty-foot walk from car to red carpet. My publicist told me that you couldn't tell, but you totally could. I can tell when I look at the photos. Instead of one thick silver stripe, there are several. I stopped for photos but couldn't do any interviews. I was afraid if I opened my mouth to speak, I would cry, because I was sobbing on the inside.

But I survived, as I knew I would, and I walked inside hoping to put it all behind me and have a great time. Commence the next terrible moment. Have you ever gone to a party alone? Have you ever worked up enough courage to go somewhere where you knew you wouldn't know anyone but the host, only to realize upon walking into said party that you'd made a horrible mistake, and you immediately get a drink and stand alone at a cocktail table for what seems like an hour and no one talks to you or even smiles your way? In fact, you are so alone that you want to talk to the guy passing champagne or consider causing him to spill just so you will have something to occupy yourself with for a few minutes. Well, that's phase two of my Oscar experience. I was deposited, by the publicist, at a lonely cocktail table upstairs and told to "have fun", even though I'm still trying not to cry. Really? Have fun? I'm standing by myself at the be-all and end-all of parties. And I know no one. There were celebrities all over the red carpet, but where did they go? Where is the rest of my cast? I have been in over forty fucking movies, shouldn't I be at least one degree from everyone here? Where is fucking anyone who looks familiar to me??!!! I grabbed two glasses of champagne hoping to make it look like someone was coming back to the table but planning to drink them both. Thank sweet Jesus and Steve Jobs for the iPhone. I started texting Janet, my best friend. I generally try not to rely on technology to get me through low-self-esteem moments, but I was desperate. She asked me what Tina Fey would do, and I said that Tina Fey would leave. (This was later confirmed by a director who works with Tina Fey a lot. I felt validated.) Janet felt that Tina would have another glass of champagne (that would have been my fourth) and try to make the best of it. I tweeted too: "At the Oscars!! Holy Shit!!!! (Still standing by myself drinking, like most parties I go to, but, hey, it's the Oscars!)" That made me feel a little better. I was really trying to be positive, even though my dress had fallen apart and I was drinking alone. Still, I was at the Oscars wearing a dress that was falling apart and drinking alone, right? A while later I saw my friend Arianne Phillips (nominated that night for costume design for W.E.) walking toward me with her boyfriend and parents. I was so happy to see a familiar face I almost cried. And, of course, the first thing that Ari said was, "Don't you love coming up to the seat-filler bar? It's so amazing up here." It suddenly made sense. I was in the wrong bar. That's why I didn't recognize anyone. Great. I asked Arianne where people I would know were drinking, and she told me, "Downstairs. Downstairs is the main bar. Everybody's downstairs." Well, glass half-full (er, more like four empty), at least I was buzzed and I got to see Ari.

Terrible moment number three: I decided it was time to go to the bathroom to throw out my Spanx. Yes, I know that is wasteful, but I have to tell you in case you don't wear Spanx, they fucking suck, and if you do wear them, then you totally know what I mean. However, they are a necessary evil; everyone wears them. My friend Natalya said once, at an event, "If everyone in this room right now took off their cothes, no one would be naked." She's right. They are so uncomfortable that I wear them for the red carpet only--it's a little deal I made with myself--and if I ever get to carry a handbag that is larger than my fist, I will roll them in a small ball, save them, and not be so wasteful. But until that day, I toss them in the garbage after photos are taken and hope that they get rescued and worn by a woman who, like me, has some dimples on the other two cheeks she'd like to hide. Once in my stall, I started to pull my dress up from the bottom, only to realize that it wouldn't fit over my hips. The dress had been too well tailored, and I couldn't pull it up at all.

This was the moment I realized that for the entire evening every time I have to go to the bathroom, I have to take off my dress, completely. This is the reason I don't like jumpsuits or one-piece bathing suits. It's not that I have a fear of being naked. I have a fear of being naked in a bathroom at the moment we get "the big one", and I get mortally crushed by the building falling in on me. And weeks later, when a rescue team uncovers my body, I will be naked, and the story (if there is one...there better be one) in the news will be "recognizable actress whose name we can't place is found naked in the rubble that was once the bathroom of the Kodak Theatre." I mean, would anyone understand that I had to take off my dress completely in order to pee? Perhaps the seamstress who tailored it for me would. But could she be trusted to spread the word after my death? Doubtful.

Beads were still falling on the tile, but I didn't care anymore. Photos were over, my Spanx were in the garbage, and I was moments from sitting in my seat and watching the Oscars! I finally got really excited. I mean, what else could go wrong? I shall tell you, terrible moment number four: I was ushered in with my cast (I finally found them in the correct bar). And, of course, I had to walk past the front row and all the biggest and skinniest celebrities of the moment. I pass George Clooney, who is the star of the movie I was there for, Brad, Angie, Meryl--they're all there and I'm there too and it was really starting to hit me how so supercool this is, when I saw my friend Suzan about five rows back waving at me, with a shadow of concern starting to appear in her eyes. I waved and went back to chatting up Stacy Keibler, when I saw Suzan again holding up her cell phone and pointing to it. Uh-oh. I hurry to my seat and get out my phone to read, "Your lingerie straps are hanging out of your dress." Of course they are! You have got to be fucking kidding me forever. Can I die? Can I just have a do over? After everything else, I have this? Was I feeling sorry for myself? Yeah, probably. But come on! Beads falling off, drinking solo for a half hour, having to strip down completely to pee, and now my straps were hanging out? In front of Meryl?!

LESSONS LEARNED:

1. Sample dresses are potentially poorly made and need to be handled as such.

2. Have a bathroom strategy in place for the evening.

3. Load a book on my iPhone so I can at least read something interesting while I stand alone at parties from now on.

4. CUT OFF LINGERIE STRAPS FROM MY GARMENT BEFORE WEARING!

5. Don't forget to have fun!

You may be wondering what I did with the dress, did I at least get to keep it? Nope. Months later, I got a box with a scented candle and one of those jars of oil with sticks in it. That was my thank you. I know it's not the designer's fault, but still, I'd like to put the woman who actually made that dress on a red carpet, surround her with celebrities, and slowly unravel the beads on her dress, while three tiers of photographers snap her picture and scream her name at the top of their lungs. I should just wear Puma from now on. I've run marathons in their stuff and it holds up just fine. Way to go, Puma!

I sound bitter. I don't want to be the kind of girl who lets one silly little thing (or four) ruin her big night. And ultimately it didn't. I got to go to the Oscars and the Governors Ball, then I got to meet up with my Prince Charming and take him with me to the Vanity Fair party, we ate and drank for free all night (not including fourth meal at the Taco Bell drive-thru), I met loads of people (who will never remember meeting me), and I held an Oscar statue (not mine)! I mean, jeez, Cinderella went to a ball all by herself, had a crazy-early curfew, and lost a shoe, but she still managed to have the best time of her life. At least I didn't lose my shoe!

From Judy Greer's "I Don't Know What You Know Me From: Confessions of a Co-Star"...copyright 2014 by Judy Greer.

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  • 3 weeks later...

You have got to be fucking kidding me forever.

LESSONS LEARNED:

2. Have a bathroom strategy in place for the evening.

5. Don't forget to have fun!

Strider. This was a howler! That first quote - tears. The second - necessary and true.

Finally somebody is honest about evil Spanx (agree with Virginia, sometimes a begrudgingly necessary one). Small slits and bathroom trips make for awkward experiences. It's either risk peeing on yourself or unharness yourself from the onesy (which takes forever) and go (then it's even longer to put back on). It's just undignified. Nobody really talks about it lol so kudos to Judy Greer. What a good sport. Great story.

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Have you noticed there are Spanx, and then there are Spanx? Like in 2 different areas of the store? (one in hosiery, one in lingerie). 2 different strengths and price ranges too. (Not that I have bought any before...)

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  • 1 month later...
  • 3 weeks later...

I hate when I shave my legs, then get into the sun and notice the blonde hairs on my kneecap.

When I first went to Europe the American practice of shaving arms and legs hadn't infiltrated the women to the extent it has now, so I would find myself now and then going out with women with hair on their legs and under their arms.

It was a shock at first, but I got used to it...I had to if I didn't want to become celibate. Hey, when in Rome...

But one quirk I did discover is that with blondes, it didn't really matter. Their hair was usually so fine and light, you didn't notice it that much. Especially if they had never shaved to begin with...their hair had a baby's softness.

It's only after a woman starts shaving that the hair comes in courser and sometimes darker than it was before.

All this was just a roundabout way of saying that I think your kneecap hair will be okay, lipslikecherries. ;)

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When I first went to Europe the American practice of shaving arms and legs hadn't infiltrated the women to the extent it has now, so I would find myself now and then going out with women with hair on their legs and under their arms.

It was a shock at first, but I got used to it...I had to if I didn't want to become celibate. Hey, when in Rome...

But one quirk I did discover is that with blondes, it didn't really matter. Their hair was usually so fine and light, you didn't notice it that much. Especially if they had never shaved to begin with...their hair had a baby's softness.

It's only after a woman starts shaving that the hair comes in courser and sometimes darker than it was before.

All this was just a roundabout way of saying that I think your kneecap hair will be okay, lipslikecherries. ;)

Gee, Thanks Strider. You're swell! :D;)

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  • 1 year later...

Okay ladies, let's talk hair for a second!  I am LOVING my 'Wave Artist' by BEDHEAD, and just had to share..

I have pin straight hair, with a medium texture, not a lot of frizz...I have been growing out a pixie for about a year and my length is now too long to use a flat iron to get curl or texture.  A friend told me about this gadget, and I am hooked! It's about $25 US dollars and so easy to use.  Note: it's important that your hair is completely dry before using, and you must use a heat protection spray to prevent frying your hair.  Okay, that's enough 'blogging'...hope everyone is well and happy. Peace

 

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14 minutes ago, planted said:

Okay ladies, let's talk hair for a second!  I am LOVING my 'Wave Artist' by BEDHEAD, and just had to share..

I have pin straight hair, with a medium texture, not a lot of frizz...I have been growing out a pixie for about a year and my length is now too long to use a flat iron to get curl or texture.  A friend told me about this gadget, and I am hooked! It's about $25 US dollars and so easy to use.  Note: it's important that your hair is completely dry before using, and you must use a heat protection spray to prevent frying your hair.  Okay, that's enough 'blogging'...hope everyone is well and happy. Peace

 

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As a male who enjoys looking at beautiful women, I heartily approve of this post. You look hot! I look forward to waves of women walking the streets this summer with this 'look'!

P.S. Where did your avatar go?

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On May 13, 2016 at 9:49 PM, Strider said:

As a male who enjoys looking at beautiful women, I heartily approve of this post. You look hot! I look forward to waves of women walking the streets this summer with this 'look'!

P.S. Where did your avatar go?

I don't know why I can't upload a pic anymore..I feel like it's been since the new/update site..

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  • 3 months later...

For all ladies and girls out there who are experiencing that time of the month, here are some clips to make you laugh! :console: 

I cracked up after watching this ad and it honestly made me look at the notorious Aunt Flo in a whole new light:

And then, there was this :whistling: (I found this skit particularly hilarious and fascinating when I thought that Aunt Flo was a downright bitch! :shifty: :P )

 

 

Edited by Kiwi_Zep_Fan87
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  • 1 year later...

Hello ladies!

It's been ages since we used this thread!

I'm still having the hot flushes. Have started using "remifemin" which is basically  black cobosh. I take the extra strength one plus the sleep one. I've also cut down to one coffee a fay. Still crappy sleeper but a little better.

How are you?

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19 hours ago, slave to zep said:

Hi Kiwi

I never suffered  with PMS, I hope it calms down for you soon 💗

Hi Julie,

The symptoms have eased. I had to take one tablet of ibuprofen, last night and after a good night's sleep, I felt much better today! :)

How are you? It's been a while since we spoke. I hope you're doing well! :wave: 

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