Question: what do the Queen of Jordan and Susan Boyle have in common?

I’ll get to that in a minute.

But first, a little more about my unhealthy obsession with Queen Rania. There is a lot about this queen that inspired the character of Ranya Hayek in Cutting Loose. There are more than a few reasons for this. She’s evolved into one of the world’s premier clotheshorses, American Vogue - and the American public in general - can’t get enough of her. She’s funny and articulate, she’s of Palestinian heritage, and she (unsuccessfully) took a stand on an issue few Middle Easterners like to acknowledge - honor killings (because Arabs in general don’t like to add fuel to the fire by drawing attention to yet another reason why white people ought to dislike us. So we choose to pretend we are blameless in all this badness instead). She’s also one of the very few (if not only) recognizable positive female role models the Arab world has to offer.

Given that the country I spent a lot of time in as a kid had more royal princesses per capita than you could shake a stick at (Saudi Arabia), you’d think a hot queen would be no casue for me to get my panties in a bunch. But no one ever saw the princesses in Saudi. Not unless (like fictional Ranya), you happened to have gone to a snooty private school in Riyadh and sat next to one. Or maybe you were a woman with serious connections and a hefty bank account (or had a husband with a hefty bank account, rather). 

So why does it seem like more Americans and Europeans like Rania than Arabs do?

Is it our long and rich history of misogyny to blame? Or something a little bit more complicated?

As usual, the answer is: it’s complicated.

Part of the reason Arabs (and Arab women in particular) aren’t too impressed with Ranya is for precisely the same reason she is loved everywhere else. Look at her - she’s so polished and perfect, and she speaks English beautifully… she’s like Princess Grace, but Arab, and a Queen! Of a real country! She is what every Fifth Avenue Bergdof Blonde aspires to be, but in brunette, and with a proper title to boot (not some bullshit Baroness of Oscar’s TrashcanLand or other such crap). She also started out in life as a “commoner” with a boring-ass job as a computer geek, albeit a commener with connections (which makes all the difference, daahling)

She’s like a glammed-up version of Pocahontas, in a poufy French ballgown and glittering tiara. Queen Rania is picture proof that Arabs could clean up nice if only they stopped being so damn angry, left the keffiyeh at home, and just tried to be civilized for once.

Of course, Ranya doesn’t just prance around with $50,000 python handbags dangling from her arm. She does stuff! Like reach out to the West by batting her eyelashes at smitten reporters and hosting her own Youtube channel (take THAT Hillary). She’s a woman who proves you can be allowed to jetset in public and say cute things Americans want to hear, like “Arabs just want peace!” while being meek and docile and a good mother and housewife and a patriot all at the same time.

And while I enjoy seeing a Palestinian woman stand tall among the world elite in stunning Dior slingbacks and Gucci trench coats, I also happen to know that Jordan is a dictatorship with a shockingly high unemployment rate. I know that Jordan has one of the highest cancer rates in the world because Israel pays to have its nuclear waste dumped in Jordanian landfills so Israeli citizens can enjoy clean air and water while Jordanians can enjoy malignant tumors.

I know that Ranya, like a prizewinning mare, is strutted out before a mesmerized Western public to distract them from women’s true status back home, in Jodan.

Yes, yes, I know we couldn’t get an anti-honor killing bill through Parliment last month, but look - Ranya made Vanity Fair’s World’s Hottest Political Wives this year!

It makes me wonder. If Ranya gave up all her beautiful, expensive clothes and opened up a few women’s shelters instead, if she lobbied her husband to give her a more meaningful political role than the Arab world’s answer to Angelina Jolie, and travelled around the Middle East spreading a message of modernization and acceptance of women’s rights, but looked like Susan Boyle in a veil - would anyone in the Western world have even heard of the honorable Queen Ranya of Jordan?

Click here to see more of Her Royal Ranianess.

People are freaking out about what Michelle wore to Buckingham Palace, for tea with the Queen. Take a look:

While not my favorite outfit of hers (it’s a color-block dress under a cardigan, not a skirt-and-top combo) but - and let’s all take a deep breath here - it’s just the Queen. Yes, there’s protocol, yes your skirt has to hit the knee or else, but really, does anyone still have time for what amounts to expensive pageantry?

I’m not against the Queen, she seems like a perfectly nice old lady with sensible values, but I don’t know about you, if I had to call someone “your highness” or “you majesty” I may just think I fell asleep and woke up as an extra animation in a Disney movie.

With Swedish princesses marrying their personal trainers and countesses cleaning out grandpa business mogul, can’t we all just agree that while all this pageantry is certainly entertaining, it’s no longer necessary in the age of La Lohane and her merry band of wealthy, idle screw-ups?

And while I don’t mind the idea of having a Queen as head of state, I think I would have a royal problem with swearing allegiance to a King. Call me a feminist tyrant if you will, but please lay off of Michelle’s forgettable outfit pick for an utterly forgettable occasion.

Britons storming the Royal Bank of Scotland as though it were the Bastille… now that’s something to talk about!

I totally missed the boat on Oscar 2009 fashion commentary and this despite the Lebanese coming out with a very solid showing this year - really great for such a teeny tiny little country in a pocket of the planet not exactly renowned for its aesthetic sensibilities (not in this particular century, anyway). 

I might have forgone commentary entirely this year had it not been for my mother (hi, mom!). Unrelenting in her efforts to broker a peace agreement between me and the Arabic-language-only satellite broadcasting television set in the kitchen, together we watched a lot of SCOOP! (Arabic version of ET, Access Hollywood, etc…) over my recent trip home, and I saw too much to let it go unacknowledged.

Disclaimer: I did poke a bit of innocent fun at the Lebanese tendency to go overboard on paillettes, gold lamé, and glitter makeup in my first novel, Fashionably Late, but you’ve got to admit - it makes for good showmanship. These stars agree - here’s a sampling of gowns designed by Lebanese at the Academy Awards:

Miley Cyrus in Zuhair Murad

Viola Davis (gold) in Reem Acra

Queen Latifah in Georges ChakraAnd Ms. Jolie in ( heavily altered) Elie Saab

(Hmm.. might Angie have gotten better reviews had she not taken an hatchet to Mr. Saab’s original design?…)

The Money Shot - what I would wear, should I one day be up there for Best Adapted Screenplay for Fashionably Late:

Elie Saab - Summer 2009

And kudos to a fantabulous blog I unearthed in my search for Lebanese fashion online - Baba Gannouj and La Zaytouni, a male/female duo of hip, hilarious, and seriously opinionated Lebanese bloggers. For more Lebanese fashion (and political commentary, if you are so inclined), check out La Zaytouni’s posts. 

I’m loving how Anna Wintour of Vogue and Devil-Wears-Prada fame has turned the once flush-with-cash Emirate into a handy, one word adjective describing unbridled, unabashed, unnecessary and utterly conspicuous consumption.

And just in time for the Oscars too. As you’re Twittering your personal take on red carpet style to your friends this Sunday, you’ll be grateful for Ms. Wintour’s updating of common English vernacular.

What might have once been: “Is Nicole Kidman really wearing gold lamé with emerald-encrusted bronze platforms and a two-foot-tall peacock-feathered headdress???” can now be easily pared down to: “Nic Kidman - DUBAI!!!!”

Of course, you could also twitter the following if you’ve been reading Ms. Wintour’s publication with semblance of regularity over the past few decades: “Vogue - DUBAI!!!”

Asked how she is tweaking the high-society-navel-gazing rag in deference to the corner-cutting mood of its common (and cash cow) readership, Ms. Wintour offered her refusal to shoot a nipple-grazing sequined “thing” (retail price - wait for it - $25,000) as an example of a more pared down, somber mood prevailing at the offices of Vogue.

And we wonder why John Thain thought he could get away with laying off thousands of Merrill Lynch employees and asking for a ten million dollar bonus in the same breath?

Say what? The laid-off employees ought to be kissing the soles of Thain’s Ferragamos for his heroic rescue of the financial institution? For what would the common masses do without their financial institutions? Without Vogue’s enlightening pieces on how H&M pants are for suckers while Oscar de la Renta is for-evah, daarling? The common masses need Thain and Vogue, just like the seventeenth-century French masses needed Marie-Antoinette. The masses ought to be grateful that someone out there can still wear what Anna calls “aspirational” clothing, even if that someone is English-heiress-turned-Vogue-reporter-turned-author-of-the-barfworthy-Bergdof-Blondes, Plum Sykes.

Now that we’re all in agreement that Dubai had all the long-term investment appeal of a pair of drop-crotch MC Hammer pants, can we give Montreal its Formula 1 spot back?

Obama as a mu-mu.

Do we love it or do we hate it?

It’s refreshing to see intelligent business strategies vindicated by positive results.H&M, the Swedish Wunderstore, has annouced new store openings all over the globe, higher than projected earnings, and - believe it or not - more hiring! It seems that by helping people be fashionable without breaking the bank, they’ve managed to keep themselves afloat in a sea of doom and gloom.

Of course, the strategy needs to be backed up by an intelligent management and operations team, otherwise why would Target - arguably a competitor to H&M - be tanking while Walmart profits soar?

In a previous post I blogged about the state of the luxury business, and how it sought to expand into “non-traditional markets” (i.e. sell luxury items to people who have no business buying luxury items in the first place) and even declared itself resistant to economic downturns since rich people are presumably above such mundane, pedestrian things as worrying about where their next dividend payout will come from.

As Louis Vuitton, Dior, et al. have learned the hard way, it doesn’t do to base a long-term strategy on shaky assumptions, such as, everyone will want to emulate celebrities’ free-spending ways until the end of time, so let’s invest a whole lot of money, energy, and a big chunk of our “brand” that we’ve spent decades honing into this strategy.

It might have been okay if they had gone for the easy profits of mass-luxury in a lucid manner: knowing they could only ride the wave for so long, and figuring out an exit strategy for when things turned sour. It might have also helped if they hadn’t eaten into their brand image by moving jobs to China so they could fatten up their margins (without, mind you, passing the savings onto the customer).

It’s funny how everything in life follows the same old cycle. Things move forward, but in widening circles as opposed to an upwards-moving line.

Take jeans.

Go ahead and google Brooke Shields and Calvin Klein to see what “normal” jeans looked like 20 years ago.

Here’s a picture in case you’re lazy:

All together now, what do we call these jeans, nowadays?

That’s right - Mom jeans!

We all remember how Britney Spears took an extreme runway trend (by Alexander McQueen) and brought it into the mainstream:

Luckily, that fad has died a merciful death, but our view of how high “normal” jeans should rise has been changed forever.

Luxury will not die. People will get sick of cheap, ill-fitting H&M clothes. I am addicted to designer jeans and will continue to buy them so long as I can afford to. But luxury will be humbled, and it’s about time.

In the opening chapter of my current work-in-progress, I was toying with the idea of having a character (a designer) describe his latest collection as “Slumdog Chic”, in reference of course to the runaway anti-Bollywood hit Slumdog Millionnaire. The collection is a sort of bum-as-the-new-black meets Indian slums, which I admit is a little insensitive and exploitative of the tragic plight of so many people (and so is a perfect metaphor for insensitive consumption), but Marie-Claire does me one better with their February cover.

Behold the new chic - Credit Crunch Chic.

Cash-strapped? About to be foreclosed on? Stuck in a loveless marriage because your assets are now worth less than a month’s supply of kitty-litter and now you can’t move out?

Boy does Marie-Claire have a deal for you! YSL has “downsized” its “no-frills, discreetly chic Easy bag” (presumably so the under-fed, over-stretched masses don’t pull a Marie-Antoinette on your ass and stuff the YSL “Easy” bag down your throat).

Suggested retail price for this bit of inconspicuous under-consumption?

$995.

There’s even a cheaper version for you SUPER bargain huntresses out there: $895.

No wonder this economy thing hasn’t bottomed out yet: we still don’t get it. Or maybe, we do get but Marie-Claire et al. think it’s a matter of time before we’re fed up with being sensible and go back to free-spending ways.

What do you think?

When I saw Jill Biden’s gorgeous red strapless frock, I thought it might be a Ralph Lauren. Jill - whom I’d read about in Vogue a few months back - seems like the poster girl for East Coast, summering-in-the-Cape American glitteratti. So imagine my surprise when I find out Jill is wearing none other than Reema Acra, Lebanese designer to high society ladies. Is the shift from tired, old political and economic ideas going to run parallel to a shift away from established designers, towards a more glodal, inclusive vision where America is no longer in a class by itself but part of the mosaic of world cultures?

We shall see.

In the meantime, here’s Reem’s bio (I am totally digging that she and my dad attended the same University… the AUB was the first University campus I’d ever seen and its gorgeous, sprawling green spaces would become the benchmark by which I judged campuses when it was my turn to go to college. The AUB is probably responsible for my hated for Concordia’s bleak, grey “urban campus” ).

From Reem’s website:

Influenced by her mother’s impeccable style and love of fashion, Reem was always fascinated by design. As a little girl, she accompanied her mother to fabric stores to learn about the finest fabrics, textures and design details such as hand-embroidery that would later become signature elements of her iconic style. As Reem grew up, her passion for design continued to evolve and she began designing dresses for herself, which were brought to life by her personal couturier.
After graduating high school, Reem studied business at the American University of Beirut, where she was discovered at a party by a fashion editor who was captivated by Reem’s dress - an ornate gown of silk organza and museum quality embroidery that was made from her mother’s dining room tablecloth. The woman instantly offered to host a fashion show of Reem’s designs which took place ten days following the chance encounter, and weeks later Reem was off to study in New York at the Fashion Institute of Technology and later its Paris counterpart at Esmond.

Following her studies, Reem traveled the world, drawing inspiration from the diverse countries she visited. After working as an interior designer for a few years, Reem continued to develop her craft in Hong Kong and New York where she returned to her fashion roots. In less than 10 years her atelier gained international recognition, sparked by a high society friend wearing Reem’s first bridal design, a simple yet embellished creation, to her society wedding. Soon after, Reem launched her first collection, Reem Acra Bridal, which elevated classic bridal designs through the use of the finest silks and intricate beading and embroidery

Can I just say how much I LOVE Michelle Obama’s look?

And not only do I LOVE her look, but I LOVE Michelle Obama.

Here’s a woman whom no one could possibly accuse of being ditzy, and yet - AND YET - she dresses with purpose, version 2.0

People back in the day dressed with purpose - even if the only witness to their grooming ritual was the breakfast table. That’s what we call “overkill”.

Your day should not be about getting dressed in the morning, just like it shouldn’t be about squeezing in the latest episode of The Bachelor (ahem - can you believe Meagan is still on there???).

Still, if you live the sort of life where you don’t have to sneak off to one of those tunnels Israel hasn’t managed to blow up, climb over a couple of fences, stand in line for 4 and half hours at a checkpoint and dance a little jig to the tune of a few AK-47s firing over your head, all just to get some breakfast**, then you can - and should - enjoy some of the wonderful mindless fun and great beauty this word has to offer.

Unfortunately, frivolity has gotten a bad rap these days because we’ve sort of been OD’ing on it since sometime around 1983.

Which brings me back to how much I LOVE Michelle Obama. She’s beautiful, but not perfect. Baby has in fact, got back. Lots of back, and not too much on top. She does not make use of ridiculous extensions, braids, or any accouterments black women resort to to feel pretty in a world dominated by a very narrowly-defined beauty ideal. She is on the other hand athletic and healthy-looking, even after two kids, proving that yes, post-childbirth weight management is possible.

And she allows herself to be wholly feminine, wholly original, and wholly herself. Like the yellow-gold brocade dress or not, you’ve got to admit she didn’t look the part of a forgettable second fiddle to her man, the president. She looked like a woman, a strong woman, and an individual.

And she paired a little-known designer’s outfit, with cool shoes and J. Crew gloves (J. Crew people!). Her outfit says “I care, yet I am not a snob”. And though it’s obvious she cares, you could never accuse a woman like that (yo, yo, Harvard law, yo) of being frivolous, or an empty-headed clotheshorse.

Now, how much cooler does Michelle look in her green gloves than Cindy McCain ever did in those $250,000 diamond earrings and über-designer cocktail dresses?

Let’s be clear - I am not judging Cindy on her appearance (I happen to have loved many of Sarah Palin’s outfits even though I don’t have an iota of respect for her, and for the record, Cindy’s clothes were beautifully tailored). I’m just saying that Cindy - like her husband - is a bit an antique. A relic from an age when rich people were rich people, and poor people were poor people, and the two classes didn’t mix, and everyone knew their place. Cindy could prance about in $250,000 earrings and an Oscar de la Renta frock when the world economy was collapsing because she’s from a class of people who don’t have to worry about these things. We will always have rich people, but what the we should not have is a nobility class that is so assured of the permannacy of its status that it feels it can do, say, or spend whatever it wants and still be on top.

 Cindy did not feel the need to edit her look to her audience or her husband’s message. She forgot that clothing does in fact send a message. That’s why we don’t show up to interviews in shorts and flip-flops. The flip-flops are not indicators of our professional talents or of who we are on the inside - they are indicators of our self-awareness, our ability to communicate and interact effectively with each other. And Michelle Obama said volumes with her inaugural outfit - and did it thoughtfully, deliberately, and with loads of style.

It’s about time this generation had its own Jackie O.

**In case you thought I was exaggerating…

I know, I know… Rami Kashou is so old news.

But having no access to Brava (or is it Bravo?… whatever, I’m too lazy to look it up right now), it’s become sort of a tradition for me to wait impatiently every year for the latest season of Project Runway to come out, order it from Amazon ASAP, and then watch it in a handful of sittings (Oh, the frustration I am saving myself by not having to sit through three bazillion commercial breaks… just the endless commercial break announcements and Heidi’s robotic repetition drives me nuts).

This year was a record for me - I watched the ENTIRE season in one sitting - yesterday.

In an effort to get myself off the couch at 2pm, halfway through my project-runway-a-thon, I even donned my brown polka dot bikini and blue striped sundress and prepared to hit the beach, but hung around for “one last episode”. Well, when I looked up it was dark outside, I had left my lunch to sit on the kitchen counter untouched for hours, and I had come to the end of the season.

And what a season it was… for an über-talented, adorable Palestinian designer, Rami Kashou. (His mom had been a one-time Miss Jordan… whaddaja expect??)

I guessed he was Arab from the light accent, but thought he might be Lebanese (the Lebanese have a knack for design, especially evening/wedding gowns).

But no, Rami is a native of the West Bank, born in Jerusalem and raised in Ramallah, before he immigrated to the States. He’s cute as a button (a muscled, shaved-head button, that is) and is the nicest, un-snarkiest person in fashion ever. Doubt me? Here he is, NOT trash-talking the judges for some of their ridiculous critiques and for holding him up to a higher standard than the rest of the contestants.

And, I say this as objectively as I can, he created the loveliest clothes, ones that reminded me very much of Elie Saab’s oeuvre.

Will we be seeing his work on celebrity clothes horses? Given his flare for flattering, rich designs (and somewhat conservative, methinks) that happen to look fabulous on camera, I wouldn’t be surprised. Rami’s timelessly chic creations can also be considered as a safe choice for the rising film star who’s afraid she might end up on the what-was-she-thinking page in a Christian Siriano ombré big bird number.

Plus I always wanted to use the name “Rami” in a book but wasn’t sure how it might sound to readers… thanks for making “Rami” a household name, Rami! Do I get a gown at cost if I promise to base a character on you?.. I’ll settle for a chic little day dress…

Here’s one of my favorite looks, in case, you know, you’re reading this, Rami…

Happy New Year everyone!