New movie. “Bird Box” starring Sandra Bullock. In person she’s A-1 gorgeous. Had fuzz dared lurk on her face — which there isn’t or wasn’t — each fluff or puff would’ve been back-combed, frosted, hair sprayed. Should Tutankhamen ever need a makeover, I suggest Sandra’s team.
Stunning silk gown from Martin Grant’s spring 2019 collection. Fluffy matching red jacket. Fur? “No. Polyester,” she said glaring at my coat, which cost less than her hair: “I don’t wear fur.” Then: “You think I’d look this good, hair so long and straight, if I sat all that time on a plane? I didn’t get done in LA. My people are here with me.”
OK. The movie. “ ‘Bird Box.’ A thriller genre set in an apocalyptic world.” She says: “My journey as a mom is the meat of the story. I’m a reluctant mother blindfolded on a white-water river, which you’ll understand when you see the film, and I’m escaping with two children, which she’d give up for adoption.”
Both tykes arrived. The mama schmeared Vaseline on little Julian Edwards’ lip before taking his photo. Posing with hands on hips, Vivien Lyra Blair is 6. Her mother: “She’s made movies since she’s 4. She has her own agent.”
Sandra: “I leave New York tomorrow because my own children, who are going to school, need you to return. I’m back here in January. Meanwhile, for Christmas we’re all going to a cold place. With snow.”
BD Wong: “We filmed in LA. It’s set in what’s supposedly my California house, where people take refuge. A big house where Charles Manson apparently spent time. In the movie, no one can go outside. Desperate strangers are thrown into a situation.
“Sandra and Sarah Paulson play sisters, and there’s a riveting horrifying scene at the beginning, and Sandra, pregnant, is dealing with her momhood. Strangers, all walks of life, come together. It’s an end-of-the-world thing. Riffing on today’s fearful world, the film’s symbolic.”
Yeah. OK. So back in this world, where’s he going for Christmas? “San Francisco to be with my mom and the rest of my family.”
VIPs talk SOS to fabulous party
Washington lobbyist Liz Robbins — in neck-to-knee silver sequins — lobbies every law signer this side of Tasmania to grace her annual Christmas party. Everyone showed. Only Napoleon, detained elsewhere, didn’t make it.
Hillary held court atop a landing. Bloomy shook hands coming up the stairs. Dinkins made his way through the door.
Speaking of civilization’s apocalypse, chat around canapes was population areas decreasing for the first time. Said one claiming to know: “It’s people doing themselves in.”
Farewell note
We just lost Penny Marshall. In 2012, she wrote a book called, “My Mother Was Nuts,” and told me why. “Because I’ve not been always well. Because everyone who thought I’d died will know I’m still alive. Rags keep printing I’m dying so I thought I’d write that I’m not. I got sick in 2009 for a minute. I’d smoked. So I had a little chemo, a little radiation. But I’m OK now.”
Yes. Now she is.
Bits & pieces
Charlie Rose and David Boies at Cipriani . . . Nikki Haley in Bloomingdale’s. Buying shoes. For sure looking to head someplace . . . Sony’s former chairman Sir Howard Stringer robbed exiting a London restaurant. The bobbies came and viewed the caper on a camera. And did what? Said Sir Howard: “Absolutely nothing. No follow-up. Nothing. London’s now dangerous.”
Christmastime the ‘21’ Club does an annual Salvation Army chorus group. After the carols, their tambourine passed for donations. Saving souls is suddenly on layaway. This year, a Salvation Army officer announced: “We also take credit cards.”
Hey, only in New York, kids, only in New York.
This story was originally published by NY Post
via USAHint.com
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