A Moment of Reverence for Duran Duran Exes (and Two Currents)

After watching the "Hungry Like the Wolf" video for the 76th time on MTV, my 14 y.o. self agonized over the inevitable pain I would feel if Simon, John, and Nick* ever found true love. I had to work fast. Then came the evil Duran Duran vacation in Montserrat with no shortage of press coverage. Duran girlfriends were everywhere, laughing with hands on precious Duran limbs. My heart hemorrhaged. The blade went deeper when Nick married Julie Anne with flamingos and matching lipgloss. My junior year, Simon married a goddess. The final nail was John's relationship with Renee Simonsen, that gorgeous model who was on every cover. The wound reopened with his marriage to Amanda. I had to accept the facts, though inside I seethed over the audacity of these no-doubt manipulative vixens.

Many decades later, my degree of separation from the boys has lessened to about 1 and 1/2 and my adolescent bitterness has miraculously vanished. (I think Dishmama is vomiting with disgust right now. I'll get back to deeper thinking soon, Mommycakes!). It took Yasmin Le Bon dancing by me during a recent concert to make me forget I was having a panic attack. She just looked so happy grooving to music. I then did the same and ignored the shakes. Amanda's The Conversation dazzled me last week, and now, I've just discovered the blog/website of Julie Anne Rhodes. I'm completely inspired by her. Her site made me want to cook and we all know Dish barely boils water**. My hat's off to this talented woman. I won't even start with Gela Nash-Taylor and the Juicy Couture empire.

Reinvention is possible and necessary over the course of a woman's life. Jealousy is mostly pointless. We have to root for each other instead. Right, girls?

*Andy was already married and, as we all know, Roger and I are the same person so it never would have worked. TG is a Simon, 4 sure.
**I can cook secretly but choose not to--I starch and iron TG's clothes instead.

The Conversation with Amanda de Cadenet: 2

I watched it. I loved it. Screw critics. Dish has been thirsting for "you go, girlfriend" content, ergo the Ally McBeal and Sex and the City marathon, and AdC provided.

I now count Jane Fonda, Sarah Silverman, Zoe Saldana and Gwyneth Paltrow as my besties.

And Amanda, I've forgiven for stealing my man twenty years ago. She's lovely, except for the interrupting. It only bothered me with Jane. You don't finish Jane's sentence. But I'm humbled by these women's stories and AdC's candor.

Bravo.

Are You Going to Watch The Conversation with Amanda de Cadenet?

Tonight on Lifetime. It's supposed to be a frank show where stars reveals juicy tidbits about their lives. And who better to host than my former nemesis, the woman I've tried to erase from my mind since I was 23, Amanda de Cadenet. She is a triple threat: blonde, gorgeous and British.

I like a good show featuring women, though am curious that it might be too canned. Maybe the stars will give us a little nugget with a cute smirk, then back to revealing a better version of their public selves. Except for Sarah Silverman and I'll watch for her and it's hard not to stare at AdC's flawless prettiness. I applaud AdC for having a different and specific kind of show. Who wouldn't want to be provocative yet coy and sit next to AdC, who is truly glam?

My only real beef is that on the show, AdC alleges she married Duran Duran's John Taylor at 16, but Dish remembers another version. Picture it: Dishbiologicalfather's house. Yellow kitchen. Dish is temping at a place that builds rockets in a suburb of Cleveland (there is nothing sadder), home for vacation. On the news came the thunderbolt that severed my heartstrings. Not only did John Taylor marry someone other than me but someone younger (4 years younger, not 7). This meant that when I was 14, bemoaning being too young for him, it was all for naught.

Oh God, why am I arguing with myself? I can't fight the system or the lure of glossy stars talking "candidly" with one of the most gorgeous model/personality/actress/photographers on Earth. But first, might rewatch ludicrous male fantasy flick she was in called Fall, in which she alludes to her flatulence. This evens the score.

Never mind all of the above. Scandal takes precedence. Or maybe I'll just knit and stare at TG while he reads.