Nosebleeds No More: The End of the Platform Shoe

Gentle reader,

Since Scott was away on New Year’s Eve, I pulled my velvet blazer on over my plaid pajamas and spent the evening at home with my elderly widowed friend, Mrs. Clicquot.  A new year was upon us and I was thinking about what we’d be doing differently in the coming months, especially about a couple of articles that I’d read recently—one in Harper’s and the other in Vogue—that seemed to toll the death knell

Ho Down in Dallas


by James Tuttle

Gentle reader,

You were probably as eager as I was for this week’s premiere of Bravo’s Most Eligible Dallas, even with its clunky title.  Unfortunately, the pompous, self-important silliness in the introductory monologues makes about as much grammatical sense.  Within the first two minutes, resident ladies’ man Matt introduces himself with these memorable lines:  “If you want to hate on me for, uh, being a, duh, single guy…twenty-eight, uh…in town?  Fine, do it!”  What the hell?  No, Matt, people aren’t “hating on you” for being single or being twenty-eight.  They hate you for being a dick.  Also, your eyebrows are too far apart.  They might hate you for that, too.

Not a cast member. Unfortunately.

The other cast members don’t fare much better.  Glenn is a football player with an amazing body and a not-so-amazing face who, he tells us, has so much testosterone coursing through him that he can’t watch Family Feud with his mom without getting an erection.  Ick.  And Courtney looks like one of the big Kardashians—you know how Kardashians come in small and large sizes—and makes up words like “incestual.”