after nearly a century of intense fabulousness, zsa zsa gabor has died.
hey. it’s me. (hey-o, is matchbox twenty’s “long day” in your head now too?? [and did you remember rob thomas rocking the double-hoops?!? which OF COURSE sends me down memory lane right back to david silver’s lady earring…
can it be that david silver was really on trend? or, THE HORROR, ahead of the curve?!?]).
i feel like patty duke- whom this post is actually about- would really appreciate that digression.
you know what i think she would not appreciate? the guardian‘s obituary. let’s take a look…
2016, ya’ll. i’m in paris at the moment and wanted to cobble together a parallel to p.t. barnum so i just googled him and was reminded that he was “un entrepreneur de spectacles américain.” which sounds about right for our current times. DE SPECTACLES AMERICAIN!
anyhoo, a funny thing has been happening with obituaries this election season. have you heard/seen?
i’ve written about this before. about how the way we write the obituaries of women is infuriating. by which i mean not just the fact that so few of them are written.
i’ve repeatedly banged on and on and on about how this is the image of jackie most often used in the press since her death in 1994.
matthew modine has not died.
but let’s backtrack…