Girls On Film

TUTTLE MODE

by James Tuttle

Gentle reader,

Oh, shit!  I just saw a fucking Christmas commercial.  It had all the bells and whistles:  the sparkly white backgrounds, the tinkling music, a red faux-Valentino holiday gown and I think I even heard that jingle bell sound.  I’m now a little anxious that I haven’t yet started chipping away at my ridiculously long Christmas list but I’m going to take a few deep breaths and get back to this week, in which we haven’t even seen Halloween yet.

Smoking is always glamorous in an Ellen von Unwerth photo.

After the fabulous launch party at Beverly Hills’ Taschen bookstore for The Big Penis Book: 3D that basically put Pure Film Creative on the blogging map, I was determined to represent PFC at last Friday’s soirée for Fräulein, Ellen von Unwerth’s photographic study of sexy, fetishy femininity.  I felt quite pleased to have been invited to a party where it appeared that most guests had to shell out $1,000 for a beautifully produced 472-page monograph that included fifteen years of images of gorgeous women from Claudia Schiffer and Kate Moss to French First Lady Carla Bruni-Sarkozy and Christina Aguilera.

Sebastian Rulli shirtless

You Are a Tourist

TUTTLE MODE

by James Tuttle

Gentle reader,

This may come as some surprise for our readers who check in regularly but I don’t have anything new to report from the world of reality television this week, unless it’s about a new show called “James Tuttle’s Stunningly Beautiful Holiday and What to Wear on It.”  Yes, I’m writing to you from sunny Mexico, where Scott and I have escaped for a week of fun and relaxation.  And, no, I don’t think any network would bankroll a show about me going on vacation, as much as I’d like them to.

Our usual destination has normally been lovely Puerto Vallarta but we decided to try something different and settled on Los Cabos, though I began to regret this decision on the flight down because the plane was full of people that, to put it delicately, weren’t really the kind of people I was hoping to spend my holiday looking at.  Americans traveling abroad aren’t generally icons of grace and style with their enormous tee shirts and ill-fitting shorts and this bunch was no different in that regard.

Olive Oyl Dressing

TUTTLE MODE

by James Tuttle

Gentle reader,

You’ve probably heard that the traffic in Los Angeles can be, well, challenging at times.  More specifically, it sometimes makes me want to drive my car off a cliff but there are fortunately no cliffs between Beverly Hills and central Hollywood so the worst that could happen would be crashing over a hedge into the Ralph’s supermarket parking lot.  My evening commute was especially nightmarish last week with D.J. Kaskade’s Twitter-incited riots one day and Lady Gaga’s last minute outdoor concert the next, both shutting down the streets of Tinseltown and causing epic delays.

Project Runway's hotness of yesteryear Jack Mackenroth (Rick Day photo)

When I finally dragged my annoyed ass through the door the other night, it was a wonderful surprise to see that the new season of Project Runway was about to start.  I mixed a drink, lit the ivy-scented Diptyque “Lierre” candle, a gift from the fabulous Miss Fay of AmateurCouture.com, and settled in for the adventure.

Priscilla, McQueen of the Metropolitan

TUTTLE MODE | REVIEW

Gentle reader,

Scott and I just got back from New York and, holy shit, it was hot out there!  When you add the humidity to the record-breaking high temperatures, it could have made for some pretty sticky fashion moments.  Luckily, one of our New York polo gays had tipped me off about the impending heat wave in time for me to switch out the Balmain rocker look I’d planned to pack for a cooler, crisper Hamptons-style wardrobe.   Skinny jeans and lace-up boots at 103 degrees?  I don’t fucking think so.

What I really should have been wearing in NYC

Now, I know that we usually share some good times over a quality television show or two but there was no time this last week for watching anything except a couple of late night episodes of Chelsea Lately and, after the kinds of late nights I was having, I don’t really remember too much about those.  We have other eye-opening stuff to chat about, though, so not to worry.

See Shells

TUTTLE MODE | REVIEW

by James Tuttle

Gentle reader,

As Scott and I are shown to our seats at this intimate venue, Barre at Vermont in the Los Feliz neighborhood of L.A. to see “The Shells Show,” we remark at how adorable the place is and how we’ve always seemed to miss seeing our friend Jai Rodriguez in his cabaret performances here.  The vaulted ceilings and modernist light fixtures take a back seat to the assembling crowd, which is good looking and pretty homo-heavy.

Shells gives new meaning to open mic.

And don’t get me started on the hot waiters!  I try not to look too much because I’m not the type to gawk, especially since we are on our date night before Scott goes off for three weeks on a movie in Fort Lauderdale.  It’s really not fair when they keep coming right up to your table, though.  I have a sneaking suspicion that I’ve seen our tall, cute waiter Bryce without his clothes on but I can’t find a reason why that would be.  This kind of thing happens frequently in L.A.

Idolatry

TUTTLE MODE

Gentle reader,

Crowds surge.  Cameras flash.  We rush to seats.  So many mill about.  See friends.  Wave.  Wait.  Waiting.  Clear the aisles!  Quiet!  Five.  Four.  Three.  Two.  Ryan Seacrest.

“This is.”

“American Idol.”

Audience roars!

I thought I was about to disappoint you once again by writing about live performances rather than the television shows that, together, we have come to love but I then happily realized that I’m not!  Even though I may have been watching the live performance from an excellent seat at Nokia Theater/L.A. Live, you were watching it at the same time on the nation’s most beloved reality competition.  Yes, it’s the American Idol finale!

Gaga ran into the Chinese beaded curtain on the way in and kept it.

Okay, I know, Chip McKinney, gay polo leader.  You are going to say, “I was there, too!  And I was actually sitting two rows in front of you, which technically makes my seat better.”  But, for the sake of argument, let’s say the rest of you were watching the show from the comfort of your living room or kitchen or dungeon or whatever you’re into.  And thanks for your (imagined) two cents, Chip.