The more you try to correct, the worse it gets
At Madonna‘s opening-night party Monday in Los Angeles there was Christina Aguilera, in a white T-shirt with the words “Deep Throat” emblazoned across her bountiful bosom.
It had a little giraffe stenciled on it cute, not dirty, see? She also has hair as big as Texas. The tiny pop princess’s industrial strength locks are now a deep honey blonde, styled in a Marilyn Monroe-just-got-out-of-bed bouffant.
All the men at the party wanted to put her back in bed!
Fran Drescher, looking like a million bucks in a low-cut top and low-slung pants, nibbling tiny turkey burgers. She is newly signed with p.r. powerhouse Nanci Ryder and ready to jump back into sitcom land. Her classic “The Nanny” is a cult fixture in re-runs. (“The Nanny,” produced by Drescher, was one of the most fully realized and satisfying sitcoms ever, full of sly asides to its audience.)
Barry Diller, so dressed-down in casual concert garb, only the sharpest eyes spotted him.
Debi Mazar, who is simply ageless, was also on hand for Madonna, giving the lie to the rumor that the old friends were on the outs, clashing over Kaballah. Debi said, “I decided not to fight it. The more you try to correct, the worse it gets. Madonna and I know the truth.”
So what is Debi up to? “I have a wonderful 2-year-old child and a fabulous husband.” Great. What about her career? “You know, I’m terrible at this. I’m too shy to talk about myself that way.” Debi is one of the world’s sweetest girls, and so talented, but her handlers probably want to wring her lovely neck. When a tipsy fan demanded to take pictures of Debi with his little digital, the actress agreed, with one stipulation: “You gotta make me look like Lana Turner, honey!”
Memo to CBS: You are paying Madonna $11 million to film her concert. I say film it while the star is fresh. HBO aired 2001’s “Drowned World” show on its final night. By then, Madonna had danced herself to a wraith and her voice was strained from months on the road. “Re-Invention” deserves to be captured at its peak.
From Liz Smith’s column on today’s New York Post