Showing posts with label Katherine Hepburn. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Katherine Hepburn. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 28, 2009

See, and this is why I am not always a fashion plate...

Thought that just popped into my head: You know what would totally make my whole outfit? A really nifty WWII aviator hat, ala Amelia Earhart. Preferably with goggles. (Please take note that what I am currently wearing is my Newport Jazz Fest t-shirt that used to be my mom's, an army green mini-skirt, leggings, wellies and a navy Little Lord Fauntleroy looking blazer.) In fact, my mind is dancing with visions of aviator hats and how cool I would look in one. Although I would probably leave it unbuttoned.


(Sadly, this one is for people with small heads.)

I am totally going to find one on ebay, and it will be all sorts of glorious, and everyone will be jealous.

Oh, and of course, as suggested by Amanda, I would look just like this in my hat.



I intend to add this to my list of things Katherine Hepburn and I have in common.

Friday, January 23, 2009

And also some other things?

God- I won't shut up lately, will I? It's probably not the best idea considering I've been feeling so curmudgeonly lately, what with the weather and all.

But do you know who makes me happy always? Katherine Hepburn. It's true, and this interview is awesome.

I plan on staying in tonight, as I remain phoneless until tomorrow, and have plans for tomorrow (actually suspect I have a number of plans... but I don't recall what they are), and Sunday is of course the first Sunday Night Sex Show of the new year (7:30! The Burlington! Do not be square!) So I am going to play hermit this evening, because in addition to that stuff, I just bought prizes and new movies and am not made out of money. So I will stay at home and watch them and be all sorts of hermity.

What movies, you ask? Awesome ones. On VHS. Most of which I have seen but do not own (or did own and no longer have, like The Philadelphia Story, which I once lent to someone and never got back. You know who you are! I also had to buy another copy of "A Confederacy of Dunces" thanks to your evil non-returning-of-stuff ways!)- but here is the list. Because I'm bored.

- As previously mentioned, The Philadelphia Story
- Camille (Which is just one of my favorite movies ever, I lost it the last time I moved, sadly.)
- Stella Dallas
- Arsenic and Old Lace
- Platinum Blonde
- Lady Killer- the only one I haven't seen! Starring James Cagney! Who I think is neat!

By the by, speaking of old movies that no one gives a crap about but me, I should tell you that you have not lived until you have seen me have a bit too much to drink and try to explain the plotline of Gilda to people who haven't seen it yet (which, weirdly, is something I tend to do somewhat often). It involves hair flipping, and singing and dancing, and the occasional attempt to recite this scene from memory. I try not to brag, you know, but this really is an exceptional talent of mine.

Sunday, November 23, 2008

I can't give you anything but love, baby

Love in the 90's






Bullshit in the 2000's... (or what I did on Thursday night)

Boy (via text message)- What r u up to?
Robyn- Watching Bringing up Baby.
Boy- Huh?
Robyn- It's a Katherine Hepburn picture
Boy- Come to ___.
Robyn- It's 1am. I can't.
Boy- That's stupid. Come out.
Robyn- Sorry, I'm tired. (and frankly, after watching Cary Grant all night, you're going to look like pretty lame anyway.)

Gah. I don't know which is more terrible- the term "hunk" being at all acceptable, or the fact that this particular text message conversation has taken place more times and with more dudes than I can possibly name. Occasionally more than once a night. Also, have had four or five conversations with the ladies this week in which I have advised, "If he's only calling you at one am, he is not all that interested in your sparkling personality or witty conversational abilities. Promise." Which is always easier to say than it is to remember.

This is the thing- in order for me to put forth the effort tear myself out of my warm bed and away from Cary Grant and then get myself gussied up quickly, the dude has got to be pretty damned awesome. If he is texting me at one am, and cannot get it together to plan a day ahead of time, he is, clearly, not all that awesome. Or at least not all that well mannered. So I stay in bed. Call me lazy or whatever, that's just how I feel.

Song For One of The Girls

Here in my heart I am Helen;
I'm Aspasia and Hero, at least.
I'm Judith, and Jael, and Madame de Stael;
I'm Salome, moon of the East.
Here in my soul I am Sappho;
Lady Hamilton am I, as well.
In me Recamier vies with Kitty O'Shea,
With Dido, and Eve, and poor Nell.
I'm of the glamorous ladies
At whose beckoning history shook.
But you are a man, and see only my pan,
So I stay at home with a book.
-Mrs. Parker.

Thursday, June 5, 2008

Old and rickety

It is now June 5th. I am old and rickety! Did you know that there was once a curse on my birthday? It's true. I broke my foot one year, and another year a tree fell on my car that I'd only had for a week, and a lot of other things happened... until Reagan died on my birthday, and then everything has pretty much been ok since. However, in the words of Miss Ruth Gordon, discussing how old one is, is the very temple of boredom.

Did you know that Ruth Gordon is basically my personal idol? Seriously, she is. I watched Rosemary's Baby again the other night, and I love her guts more than you can possibly know. It's true. And not just because she was Maude in Harold and Maude, although that's a major part of it. In case you didn't know, she and her husband Garsin Kanin wrote Adam's Rib, and Pat and Mike, and were supposedly the inspiration for Tracey and Hepburn's onscreen personas (gush! I know, I'm lame.). Also, she played a character based on Dorothy Parker in some play by George Oppenheimer. So, like, basically, she rocks my face. If she were alive, and a man, I would want to marry her and have all of her babies- even if they were actually Satan's. It's true. And I don't like short chicks!