January 27, 2009
A year ago I was making fun of my baby sister Clemence. Instead of studying for her baccalauréat, she was glued to the computer, watching Gossip Girl.
For those of you who live on Pluto, Gossip Girl is the new it series. Everyone is crazy about it. The fact that it depicts 16-year-old New York kids cruising around town having sex at the back of limos doesn’t seem to alter the identification factor. The girls wear couture to sleep and that’s ok with us. I know people who would smash a plate on my head for criticizing the French trade unions but who watch Gossip Girl in a state of brainwashed ecstasy.
I must say, I am now an addict. You cannot not love Serena van der Woodsen, her incredible mane of hair and impossible legs. The boob job is great too, but I don’t like to think about it. It spoils the myth. Because yes, Serena is a cult. My fellow Frenchie Serge Gainsbourg would have approved.
But the main character in Gossip Girl isn’t human. It’s the clothes.
The producer, Josh Schwartz (The O.C), banked on the Sex and the City fashion factor and hired Eric Daman, former assistant to Patricia Field, the iconic Sex and the City stylist. Eric is doing a pretty good job: all the girls want Serena and Blair’s wardrobe. There are blogs dedicated to the two girls outfits. Any piece of clothing featured on the show is literally snatched off the racks the very next morning. It’s gone out of control.
But forget Serena’s hair and the fabulous clothes. What makes me drool in Gossip Girl is Blair’s lingerie. Being French and all and brought up with a mother who would make us spend hours, age 6, in this boudoir-ish lingerie shop from which she bought heaps of silks and laces and ribbons, I thought I had a pretty fancy taste in lingerie. And a well-stocked drawer.
That was before I met Blair and caught glimpses of her spectacular lingerie collection. Blair Waldorf, 16, makes a corset appear casual. Still a virgin, she lounges around her closet, lying on her ottoman chair, wearing nothing but a robe and a corset. Can I just repeat that she is 16. She wears corsets under sleeveless dresses, because really who doesn’t? She also wears camisoles under pretty much everything. And oh, by the way, she doesn’t do pants. And tights seem to be just as low-caste, because Blair only wear garter belts and stockings, please take note.
Alright. Get a grip, girl. Tomorrow, I promise, it’ll be politics and history. Serious stuff.
In the meanwhile, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to look online for some silk camisoles.