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Thursday, August 24, 2006

A Day of Fashion and a Sick Little Boy

It's Wednesday, and Z wants to watch Project Runway so we have to go to H's house to find a working TV set . For my benefit we first play last week's episode which is on tape. From the blogosphere I already know who lost, and that the challenge was to create dresses out of trash. Still, I am impressed to see the creativity of the designers and I take it all in with great interest.

Tonight's episode requires the designers to make dresses for each other's mothers and sisters, most of whom are closer to size 2x than to size 0. Quite a lot is made of the argument between the designer with the tatooed neck and his model who realizes early in the game that the dress he is making is not going to be flattering. She's old enough to have figured out what works for her and what doesn't. He won't listen. I side with the model. I can see why the show is popular, but I don't feel a strong need to know how it will all turn out.

Immediately afterwards there is another reality show to watch. This one is called "Work Out". It follows the narcissistic activities of a group of uber-fit spa workers and trainers in Beverly Hills. Z knows Jackie's (lesbian spa owner) hairdresser and tells us a funny anecdote. It's not a world that I can relate to or care about. What can I say?

Earlier in the day I have driven to the Short Hills Mall with H and Z. I always love these expeditions - seeing things from a younger perspective. We spend a lot of time examining Crocs; H buys a pair for herself in navy. They will be good commuting shoes. Z tries on and ultimately rejects a DVF dress because it has in-seam pockets that create unwanted lumpiness. I am interested to learn that DVF (Von Furstenberg) is once again a hot name in fashion. I remember when her wrap dresses were such a sensation the first time round, in the seventies, and wonder what became of the one I had. They were cotton jersey then; now they are mostly silk, and the styles are more varied.

But all this focus on fashion is really just a diversion - a red herring. The true object of our attention is a small boy in a hospital in Pennsylvania. We can't for a minute stop thinking of L, my five-year-old grandson - their nephew , who has suddenly, out of the blue, turned up with a rare condition - one none of us has ever heard of. There have been many telephone calls. He's getting fine care. He's being so brave. We are told that the prognosis is excellent; he's doing well, and should be home in a couple of days. Still, how can we not worry? Little boys do not belong in hospitals.


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