Friday, June 30, 2006

Prada & Me

When I see certain movies, I get so caught up in the world on the big screen in front of me that when I walk out I feel like I am the heroine. I feel her hair on my head, her walk in my feet, her particular way of lifting her chin or pursing her lips. I have intense movie crushes that have nothing to do with romantic or sexual yearnings, but simply a desire to be that person who just loomed twenty feet tall in front of me for two hours.

With that introduction, you're no doubt expecting something spectacular, but the film I saw today was "The Devil Wears Prada." It's a complete Meryl Streep tour de force, even though she inhabits the screen much less than Anne Hathaway. I really enjoyed the movie, even though it was predictably sappy at times, with a "Working Girl" or even "Two Weeks Notice" kind of ending. (My cinematic references are so elite.) But Meryl Streep is so very very good. She plays the character exactly how you don't expect her to - there is no screaming or nastiness, just a very calm low soft purr that is chilling in its intensity. To see that just a week or so after seeing her flighty rural songstress in "A Prairie Home Companion" is just incredible.

So, yes, I come home and I feel like I am looking at the world through Anne Hathaway's face. I want to own fabulous shoes and coats and handbags, because I'm still caught up in the movie's reality. And, really? I'm not even that kind of girl. To be perfectly frank, I don't even quite know what Prada is. I mean, I know Prada is a fashion brand, but I couldn't tell you what exactly its stuff looks like. This is despite having several friends (gay, male) who worship at the feet of the Prada gods. Sadly, their extravagant purchases have been lost on me because I couldn't tell Prada apart from... well, another designer I don't know. When Kathy Griffin made a joke about Anderson Cooper touring ravished New Orleans in Prada, all I could think was, "is that what he usually wears?" Because it just looks like a suit to me.

Thank you. I think I've successfully talked myself down from running out to buy a copy of Vogue.

I don't usually go to movies on Friday, but it's the start of a long weekend (we have Monday and Tuesday off for July 4th) and I'm a bit restless. I was supposed to help my mother move but now that is all up in the air, so I am facing a number of days without anything specific to do. I can fill those days easily, between writing and reading and cleaning and doing computer work and playing the Sims and taking clothes to the thrift store and going to the gym and etc. etc., but I'm still feeling a bit empty. I think it's been really hard to be so far away when my mother has been going through hell, because there's no way for me to get up there and do anything, if there were anything I could do anyway. Although now it appears there might not be quite as much damage to her place as suspected, and the buyers are still interested and planning to visit this weekend. It's not as good news for the village itself (which is about 15 miles from her place) - it's still underwater and seriously compromised.

Maybe I'll google Prada.


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