Words & Music Wednesday: Diana Vreeland: The Eye Has to Travel

 
 
 
 

A new dress doesn’t get you anywhere,it’s the life that you have in the dress.
Diana Vreeland

 
 

This installment of W & M Wednesday is a three-fer, we’ve got a book that goes with a film that goes with a playlist. Diana Vreeland –The Eye Has to Travel is Lisa Immordino Vreeland’s companion book to her documentary film of the same name about her Grandmother-in-law “The Empress of Fashion” Diana Vreeland.

 
 

I don’t really know if I have heroes but if I do DV is certainly one of them. She wasn’t rich, she wasn’t beautiful and she wasn’t well educated but she had wit, imagination, and style. True style is hard to come by these days. In the words of Edna Woolman Chase, Fashion can be bought. Style one must possess. Vreeland’s style was completely her own, not governed by fashion trends or what her neighbor was wearing. But to think of her as only a fashion editor would be wrong. She had a unique way of looking at the world which she used to invent not only herself but to influence the larger culture.

 
 

Vreeland spent twenty-eight years as the fashion editor of Harper’s Bazaar and her Why Don’t You column was famous for its amusing suggestions some practical, some not so very:

 

Why don’t you…

 

… rinse your blonde child’s hair in dead champagne as they do in France?

 

…tie black tulle bows on your wrists?

 

…own, as does one extremely smart woman, twelve diamond roses of all sizes?

 

…paint a map of the world on all four walls of your boys’ nursery so they won’t grow up with a provincial point of view?

 
 

She left Bazaar in 1964 to become the editor in chief of Vogue. During her tenure at both magazines she started many careers, but at Vogue she embraced the “Youthquake” of the time bringing a new generation of readers and reversing the magazine’s flagging fortunes. The public’s first exposure to the work of Mick Jagger, photographer David Bailey and Models Penelope Tree and Verushka came within the pages of Vogue.

 
 

When her time at Vogue ended in 1971 she went on to the Costume Institute at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. She turned their annual costume ball into the must attend event of the social season in New York as it still is today.
Always on the lookout for the next idea she took inspiration from everywhere. In a profile of her the writer Jonathan Lieberson said She was perpetually scanning, monitoring, reaching for some idea, sensation or tangible item – a fingernail, a color, an eye socket, a squashed banana peel, a jewel – that would, in her words, “thrill me to madness”.

 
 

Watching the film, reading the essays and perusing the gorgeous photos and illustrations in the book makes you realize how rare an eye she had for talent, for culture and for real beauty. She was the rare person who found beauty in imperfection and lead by example when it came to making one’s flaws into virtues.

 
 

We have not nor are we likely to see the likes of Diana Vreeland again, and that is a shame. Immordino-Vreeland says At a time when the world is changing to quickly we need someone like Vreeland who celebrates original thought, beauty, and imagination. Through her work she has allowed us to live in other worlds and understand that life is malleable just as beauty is.

 
 

The world of DV is a great place to get lost and the film and its accompanying book makes it easy to do. And now we add a playlist to read by…

 
 

Kay Thompson -Think Pink – DV’s larger than life persona lead to several thinly veiled screen portrayals. I think Kay Thompson’s in Funny Face is the most delicious. DV once famously declared that pink is the navy blue of India.

 
 
 

Rolling StonesJumpin’ Jack Flash- Vogue under Vreeland was the first American Magazine to run a picture of Mick Jagger.

 

Listen to

 
 

Yo-Yo MaAnything Goes – Because no one recognized changing times and mores more astutely than Diana Vreeland.

 

Listen to

 
 

George BensonThis Masquerade – As RuPaul says We are born naked, everything else is just drag. I think DV would approve.

 

Listen to

 
 

Lauren BacallHow Little We Know – One of DV’s discoveries from her days at Bazaar. This was Bacall’s first film, and the one on which she met Humphrey Bogart. Oh, and by the way that’s Hoagy Carmichael on piano.Supposedly the voice you hear is not actually Bacall’s but fifteen year old Andy Williams.

 
 
 
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The Lost Art of Paying a Compliment

 
 

 
 
This is a story that begins, as so many of my stories do, with my hair. Anyone who has known me for more than five minutes knows that my hair color and style change frequently. I really have very little to do with this, I have given Mario and his colorist complete free rein up there. My sole requirement is that remains red. By the time I come into the salon for an appointment there has already been a meeting and decisions have been made about what’s going to happen. I’m fine with this. It’s one less decision I have to make, and I’m never unhappy with the results.

 
 
The interesting side lesson I’ve learned through my various follicular variations is that the state of etiquette is pretty dire out there these days, especially when it comes to giving compliments.

 
 

I may have mentioned before that my mother was a stickler when it came to manners. She hammered into my hard little head that you didn’t go around asking for compliments and that when you gave a compliment it should make the other people feel good. That it should also be sincere was unspoken and yet clearly understood.

 
 
What would she make of the woman who said to me the other day “I like your hair longer, it looks so much better that way, you should never cut it again?” Or “THIS hair color I like” (with a raised eyebrow and an extremely heavy emphasis on the this). Of my personal favorite, “Now, your hair [meaningful pause] is that for your career?” Ii realize that the last was not a compliment but it does fall into the category of making a comment that goes beyond the boundaries of the polite. I suspect that Mama would definitely not approve.
 
 

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not crying myself to sleep at night over these comments, and it certainly won’t influence the way I do my hair. If anything, it makes me more determined to do exactly what I want. What bothers me is that it never seems to occur to the compliment giver that perhaps the purpose of a compliment is not to express your opinion or your approval but to give the person to whom you’re speaking a gift. If someone shows up with a new haircut, or outfit, or has gained or lost weight you are not required to comment on it. If you don’t like it the rule “if you can’t say anything nice don’t say anything at all” definitely applies.

 
 

It’s perfectly wonderful and fine to tell another person that you like something about them. In fact, it’s terrific! It’s not so nice when what you give with one hand you take away with the other. There are enough blogs, television shows and magazines in the world that dissect everything about a person from their clothes, to their speech, to the behavior o their children. We are full up with editorial comment we don’t need any more.

 
 

I think learning to give a sincere compliment starts within our own mirror. How many times do you think of say something positive about yourself and then immediately follow it up with a “But…” I know I do this way more often than I care to admit. I think it’s a whole lot easier to find the unqualified good in other people when we can recognize it in ourselves first.

 
 

So let’s issue a challenge to ourselves this week. Every morning find one wonderful thing about yourself and give yourself a compliment on that thing. Say it out loud, write it down, make a note in lipstick on your mirror whatever just make it kind and don’t add any buts at the end. Once you’ve done that go out into your day and find one person to whom you can give the same kind of sincere compliment. That’s it. We may not change the world but it just might change our little corner of it.

 
 

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Monday Morning Tunes

 
 

Photo by George Hoyiggen-Huene

 
 When I was nine my teacher assigned an essay on what I wanted to be when I grew up. From the time I was five or six I KNEW I wanted to be a singer, but sitting in that fourth grade classroom listening to the teacher spell out the details of the assignment I figured out that this was not going to be an acceptable answer. Awkward, Unpopular nine year olds from middle class parents in Virginia Beach, VA. did not grow up to be artists. So I wrote about wanting to be a teacher instead.
 
 

Somewhere along the line I got the message that what I really wanted to be was asking too much, maybe it was even more than I deserved. And yet I still wanted it. I didn’t know how I was going to get it, but I knew that I would figure that out eventually.

 
 

All these years later I still want more than is probably good for me. I do daily battle with the inner voices that tell me I should be practical and sensible and that all the plans and ideas and dreams and desires that fill my head are best forgotten. Even if I tried I don’t think I could ignore these creative urges that hum in my veins every moment of every day.

 
 

I don’t think I’ve ever heard a song that expresses this daily hunger better than Marc Blitzstein’s I Wish It So. The lyrics are simple and eloquent, the tune is gorgeous. It gets me every time.

 
 

I’m still searching for the definitive recording, but on this Monday morning you can’t go wrong with Rosemary Clooney.

 
 
Listen to

 
 

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Friday word: ABLIGURITION

 
 

 
 

Abligurition: Excessive spending on food and drink.

 
 
Whenever spouse and I have one of our periodic budget summits what surprises me is not the amount that has gone to expanding my already overstuffed wardrobe (I can pretty much guarantee that is a big ugly number that will send me screaming from the room), but the abligurition. Now, we love good food, and New York City is full of wonderful restaurants several of which we have tried but we aren’t out at Per Se every night of the week. We take our food seriously but don’t consider ourselves foodies. My idea of Hell is a pretentious and overpriced restaurant.
 
 

For someone who likes to say that she is a domestic menace my dirty little secret is that I’m a pretty fair cook and I even enjoy it on occasion. It is in my frequent visits to various grocery stores that my abligurition really comes to light. Several years ago Spawn brought a group of friends home from school and they asked for a snack. Upon being offered various options one of them said “don’t you have any normal food?” Up until that moment it never occurred to me that the things that I consider “staples”, Hummus, olive tapenade, Cheese that isn’t orange and doesn’t break off into strings was anything out of the ordinary. I am the only person I know who frequents my local liquor store solely because they have a fantastic cheese department.

 
 
As long as there is good cheese, fresh bread and exceptional chocolate in the house who needs to eat out?

 
 

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Let Me Sum Up

 
 

Ah, the glamour! Backstage at the Met Room

 
 
The Princess Bride was on last night and now I have Inigo Montoya’s voice stuck in my head, thus the title of this post. Here are a few highlights from my adventures of the last few weeks.
 
 
• Being sewn into my dress mere minutes before opening at NYC’s Metropolitan Room. Wouldn’t you know the ONE time I don’t bring an emergency outfit I have a major wardrobe malfunction? I was bound and determined to wear my green velvet dress that reminds me of Miss Scarlett’s curtains once more before the weather got too warm. Dress went on but halfway up my back the zipper froze no amount of soap, prayers, or imprecations would inveigle it to move. Fortunately Joe, the charming waiter happened by and saved the day by stitching me up. The audience was none the wiser and I got an extra shot of adrenaline from my last minute escape from catastrophe.
 
 

Me and the infamous green dress. Can you blame me for not wanting to wear anything else? Photo by Justin Adour

 
 

• My cousin Carol and her daughter Amanda whom I haven’t seen since she was a wee babe surprised me by showing up at the Met Room. It added an extra wonderful layer to the already extraordinary experience of being onstage sharing songs and memories of my mother and grandmother.

 
 

With Cousin Carol and her daughter Amanda

 
 
• We got a lovely review in the Times Square Chronicle. I know, I’m not supposed to pay attention to such things but it’s always nice to read kind words about my work in print.
 
 

• Singing with my adored Michele B. It just doesn’t get any better.

 
 

An action shot from the house concert by Larry Mann

 
 

• Our first ever house Concert hosted by my friends Alex Tang and Bob Bagnall in their historic Washington, DC home. I’ve always wanted to do a house concert, and I couldn’t have asked for a more beautiful spot, more gracious hosts or a more receptive audience. It is a tremendous (and truly terrifying) experience to perform directly to an audience with nothing between you and them. I loved every minute of it.

 
 

With my adorable host Alex Tang

 
 

• I was thrilled to have so many of my DC friends, family and colleagues come out to see me on a rainy Monday night. It was a great homecoming, and the house concert format gave me so much more leisure after the show to interact and chat with everyone.

 
 

• Again, singing with Miss Brourman. No matter the format or the venue or the audience she’s always right there with me.

 
 
• After the concertizing I made it home, but somewhere along the way my gallbladder decided it was unhappy with its lot in life and expressed this by forming its own quarry. Out it came. Thus I have spent the last little while recovering from surgery and enjoying the fact that I may once again eat dairy and French fries. Tofutti Cuties aren’t bad but there is just no substitute for Ben & Jerry!
 
 

Now I’m back to plotting and planning working on a few new projects and some dates for the fall, looking forward to keeping you up to date with it all!

 
 

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Monday Morning Tunes: Dancing with Cee Lo Green

 
 
 

 
 
 

I’m back! The past month has been a crazy roller coaster ride, and I’ve got a full report coming up. HOWEVER today is Monday and sometimes on Monday you just have to crank up the music and dance like a maniac (bonus points if you sing at the top of your lungs at the same time). Come on….you know you want to…

 
 
 
 


 
 
 
 
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Songs, Scorpions & Free Stuff

 
 

 
 

The past few weeks have been completely crazy and deeply satisfying all at the same time. I packed up my monster suitcase with more clothing than even I can wear in the space of a week and a half and headed out to LA.

 
 

Once there I spent four very intense days working with Michele Brourman putting our new set up on its feet. This was a tough one as I’m doing something a little different this time. I’ve combined the songs with stories from three generations of women in my family, my mother, my grandmother and me. I’ve always wanted to share these stories but putting them out onto the stage for the first time was a bit daunting. As it turns out the Gardenia in West Hollywood was the perfect venue for our inaugural outing. I couldn’t have asked for a more supportive and responsive audience.

 
 

 
 

The night before our gig Michele and I were invited to sit in for a couple of tunes with the trio Chambers, Herbert & Ellis. Pierre Chambers, Lisa Herbert, and Mitch Ellis were the perfect hosts generous and welcoming. It was one of my favorite LA nights out ever. They are in residence at the Gardenia the first Wednesday of every month so if you’re in the vicinity stop by and tell them Wendy Lane and Michele sent you.

 
 

After all my work obligations were fulfilled it was family time. Spouse, Spouse’s brother
Isaac (my photographer, & website designer), his wife Heather and their three kids all came out for the show. When the Bailey’s get together craziness always ensues. We spent a wonderful weekend in LA just hanging out and seeing the sites. The high point for me was an afternoon at the Getty something I’ve always wanted to do when I’m out there but never seem to have the time for. The next day Heather, who is a marvelous fabric and home designer, introduced me to the wonders of the Rose Bowl flea market. After loading up on treasures we piled into their van and headed off to their home in Phoenix.

 
 

 
 

In Phoenix there was plenty of family bonding time, followed by a bit of sightseeing and of course, some retail therapy. Heather took me to Nordstrom’s last chance where I thought I’d go bargain mad. I also learned that household pests out west are somewhat different from those we have in the east. Who knew that the day would come when I’d appreciate cockroaches? Let me tell you, I’d much rather confront one of those than a scorpion any day. Not a big fan of stinging aggressive insects.

 
 

It was with heavy heart and much heavier suitcase that I returned home. I’m now in the thick of getting ready for the NYC’s Metropolitan Room on Thursday and Friday, and a house concert in Washington, DC next Monday. If you’re in the area drop on in, we’d love to see you. In fact, Heather and I have joined forces for a little cross promotion and she’s offering the chance to win two free tickets to my Metropolitan Room show on her blog. Just stop in, check out her designs while you’re there and leave a comment on the post and you’re entered in the drawing. Not in NYC? Don’t worry; you can get a free CD instead.

 
 
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Monday Morning Tunes: Bobby McFerrin & Friends

 
 

 
 

This was not one of our better weekends chez Wendy Lane. Our furnace and computer decided to expire simultaneously and for a brief moment my I-phone joined in solidarity. The good news is that the new furnace is being installed tomorrow; a new computer has been procured and the I-Phone has decided to live to fight another day. In the meantime, though I’m huddled under down comforters, and felines in front of the space heater acclimating myself to my new computing device. Fortunately the new device is a laptop so I can do this from my reasonably warm bed under said comforters and felines. Given the current temp in my house a little warming up music is called for on this Monday morn. Who needs central heat when there’s Bobby McFerrin jamming with Yo-Yo Ma, Edgar Meyer and Mark O’Connor?

 
 
 
 
 
 
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Friday Word: Tantivy

 
 

 
 

Tantivy – In a headlong dash, at a gallop

 
 

Definition From The Gilded Tongue: Overly Eloquent Words for Everyday Things by Rod L. Evans

 
 

This is a pretty good description of my life at the moment. I am in constant tantivy, writing and cramming my brain full of words and music for upcoming gigs, promoting said gigs, all the while trying to keep all the plates spinning on the domestic front. Balance seems to have gone out the window for the foreseeable future. Dishes are piling up in the sink, and the mountain of clothing on the chair in my bedroom threatens to topple over and engulf the felines. Friends begin to wonder if I’ve suddenly upped and moved. Tantivy can feel awfully good because I’m in motion and I’m accomplishing many things, but at the same time it can be dangerous. Galloping too fast means that I might be missing some of the fun along the way. So, maybe, just for today I’ll slow down my frantic pace, leave behind the piano and the computer and just go out and enjoy the sunshine before the next snowstorm.

 
 
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Monday Morning Tunes: Keith Jarrett Trio

 
 

Easing into the week with the Keith Jarrett Trio’s I wish I knew. Simply gorgeous. There is nothing more to say, just listen and bask.

 
 

 
 
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