Anyone who knows how to dance has a leg-up on being crowned a Dazzler of the Day, and so it is that Gleb Savchenko earns his first dazzling honor. A beloved star in his own right from ‘Dancing with the Stars’ and currently on a run in a Chippendales show (now in Las Vegas and moving to Atlantic City this summer), Savchenko dazzles through his fancy footwork and appealing charm.
Lilacs seem to carry childhood memories with them for many people, and I am no exception. It is the scent that instantly and singularly brings me back to a very specific suite of childhood recollections, starting with the sight of them over a neighbors fence. There was a large stand of them in all sorts of shades – from the deepest purple to the traditional lilac, and a few creamy white ones as well. They would fill the yard with their perfume, which drifted over to our side, and I distinctly remember a feeling of envy as I craved to be closer to their tantalizing fragrance.
After growing a glorious double-flowered hybrid in our back and side yards over the past few years, I recently planted the traditional old-fashioned variety, which has spread into a sizable path by the driveway and is the first of the lilacs to bloom.
No matter what I’m doing, no matter what kind of day I’ve had, I always pause to smell the lilacs when they come into bloom. I pause, and I remember, and the joy of spring always comes back.
Just as we seemed to be getting accustomed to Boston life, it was almost time to return to Albany and resume the rigors of regular life. Before that, however, one more fancy dinner, this time at Amar, one of the restaurants at the Raffles Hotel – something that had sprung up without my giving it much notice in the midst of Back Bay. The entry-way provided the splash of excessive florals that I had originally been seeking for this anniversary.
Amar was lovely, offering a bird’s-eye view of Back Bay, reminiscent of our wedding rehearsal dinner at the Top of the Hub. That restaurant has also disappeared, so out of our original wedding dining locales, only Mistral remains from fourteen years ago.
On our way out, another spectacular display of flowers demanded a moment and a picture, then it was into the night after the sun had gone down during dinner.
One of Boston’s bunnies, constant companions to us over these many years, wished us goodnight as it sat beneath a fragrant patch of Korean spice viburnum. The perfume of spring carried in the night air.
Gardens glowed differently in the light of lamp-posts, such as this chartreuse variety of the bleeding heart. The evening itself gave off the sort of enchantment that only comes at this time of the year, when the ghostly blooms of the American dogwood on its sparsely elegant bare branches create an effect that is unmatched by the most splendorous of summer scenes.
The next morning the sun was out, sending us off after another unremarkably remarkable visit to Boston – the very best kind of visit to make. Happy anniversary, Andy! Thank you for being with me on this crazy journey through life together.
Our wedding anniversary tradition is to start the day with the cleaning of our wedding rings, which get spiffed up and shined at Shreve, Crump and Lowe, followed by a slow walk through the Boston Public Garden, the site of our wedding ceremony. In strangely glorious fashion, the moment we set foot into the garden transports us to a different world – the magical space and time when the mundane concerns of reality fall momentarily by the wayside, replaced by a happy reminder of what really matters, and what has always mattered most to us.
Amid the occasional squawking of waterfowl and the mischievous mayhem of some overly-friendly and zealous squirrels, there is also a subdued solemnity during our time here, the same way a hush came over our ceremony fourteen years ago and no one else in the world seemed to exist other than Andy and me and our chosen guests. That special circle has dwindled over the years, as our fathers have already left us, but they were with us again on this day in our memories.
Andy and I sat down on a bench that looked out at the spot where our ceremony had taken place. A gnarled old cherry tree was resplendent in full bloom, while a group of squirrels ran among its branches. We’ve always paused in our walk at some point, to take in the moment and the day, to remember and honor what we’ve been through, and where we’re headed. Love changes and evolves over the years, and it takes nurturing and care to keep it thriving. Here in this sacred place, we remember that day fourteen years ago… and all the days of the last twenty-four years.
Before we left the garden, the sun peeked through the overcast sky – another little gift of the day.
Across the street from the garden, we tried out the new-to-us Coterie at the Four Seasons. Our beloved Bristol Lounge – the site of our wedding lunch, and subsequent indulgences in their Chocolate Tower Cake – had closed years ago, but the new restaurant was lovely on a smaller scale, and we talked of how it would work well for next year’s anniversary, when we planned to bring all the living attendees of our wedding day back together while we are willing and able.
The Public Garden had worked its romantic magic again, as we laid pans for next year, and one more dinner for this anniversary celebration.
While today is our official wedding anniversary, Andy and I made an early long weekend of it in Boston since Tuesdays are hardly the ideal day of the week to celebrate anything. That means this entire day of posts (there are three in total, so do come back) commemorate our 14th anniversary, an unremarkably remarkable anniversary as we scouted locales for next year’s 15th. As is the way with such matters, 14 is a quieter number, but no less magical, and our time in Boston is always filled with a simple enchantment that brings us back to our original wedding weekend.
Upon arriving, we were greeted with the bright blooms of the flowering spring trees – dogwoods and crab-apples and cherries – the typical gift that Boston has bestowed upon us rain or shine. April hints at the promise of spring ~ with May comes the delivery.
That doesn’t mean it’s always sunny, even if it is our anniversary, and as our first afternoon darkened into evening, clouds appeared and a brief bout of rain began just as we tried to find our way to Bogie’s Place, a hidden little speakeasy and dining experience that proved as deliciously elusive as it was rewarding once we discovered its entrance.
Passing through this colorful passageway, we were reminded that there are still adventures to be had even 14 years into our wedded journey, and almost 24 into our entire time together. It lent a warmth to the chilly descent of evening.
An intimate dinner that began with cocktails and mocktails, and ended with a cozy plate of beignets, closed out our first night in Boston. That old anniversary magic was at work again…
For this year’s Met Fashion Exhibit “Sleeping Beauties: Reawakening Fashion” (the actual impetus for the Met Gala), the dress code was officially announced as ‘The Garden of Time‘ – both of which sounded extremely promising and almost too easy, which usually means people let me down. At the time of this initial writing, that has already happened, but before the disappointment, let’s point out what was spectacularly right, starting with Co-Chair Zendaya, who absolutely ate in this on-theme ensemble that wows in all the best ways.
Jennifer Lopez was also a Co-Chair, and she sizzled per usual.
Bad Bunny was there early, and seemed to think that holding a few black flowers would forgive the general lack of color from his ensemble.
Personifying beige and tan, and all the bloody-boredom-inducing blandness of this ensemble, Chris Hemsworth would have done better to show up naked as he did here.
Far better was the over-the-top magnificence of what Gustav Magnar Witzoe chose to wear in an effort to make the boldest statement – which looked stunningly riveting against the garden-themed backdrop.
An indication of how an easy theme can fall quickly apart, Anna Wintour wore this. I’ll leave review and judgment to the viewer.
One more of Zendaya to cleanse the palate.
Honorable mention goes to Sarah Jessica Parker, who knows how to Met Gala better than just about anybody.
PS – Was Nicki Minaj my favorite outfit of the evening? Possible… very, very possible…
The tantalizing possibilities of a song named ‘Pyramid’ have had all fans of Jim Verraros salivating and waiting with properly-baited breath for the arrival of his new single, set to debut May 10. The promotional artwork and video clips are scintillating, and only hint at the follow-up to his worldwide smash ‘Take My Bow’. Like many, I’m hoping this is the beginning of an entire album of new work, as the world seems poised and ready for someone who once trail-blazed his way onto the music scene and never quite got the credit he deserved for it. Get ready to be dazzled all over again as ‘Pyramid’ gets its long-awaited release this week.
The Met Gala is scheduled to take place today, and even in the dastardly disarray of this modern world, it’s still the one event that brings a smile and irresistible inspiration to my countenance. As such, I’m planning on taking the afternoon off from the blogging world (unless something truly awe-inspiring happens), so take your time perusing this weekly recap – it’s the very first one of May, almost always the most wonderful month of the year.
A happy face gives hope to spring.
Spring fruition and summer plans.
GOP upstart Kristi Noem shot and killed a puppy on purpose.
Madonna’s biggest Celebration ever.
A visit to White Flower Farm – a journey I’ve wanted to make for almost forty years.
Bodacious bodies and one bare ass.
Dazzlers of the Day included Nancy Pelosi and Austin Armacost.
Any post anchored by a Speedo shot of Luke Evans is guaranteed to be a good post. And so we close out this rainy Sunday afternoon, featuring Evans in some of his new clothing line BDXY, as seen in similarly-skimpy form here. For those who would argue whether a bulging or naked Luke Evans is better, here he is in nude style.
Theo James made his own full-frontal splash on ‘The White Lotus‘ and was nude in this post as well.
John Arthur Hill earned his first crowning as Dazzler of the Day here, an honor that seems likely to repeat given his Instagram penchant for scintillating posts.
David Beckham has already earned classic iconic hunk status on this site – just check out his very own category link here. Here he is again, courtesy of his wife Victoria’s keen eyes and generous social media sharing.
Banging out the backend of this post is the positively bodacious posterior of fan-favorite Matthew Camp. See more of Matthew here, here, and here. Oh, and definitely visit here, where he was given Dazzler of the Day status.
How does a story begin?
Doesn’t every story come from another one?
Nothing can ever start anew, not now, not this late in the game.
It feels like all the stories have been written, and all the stories have been told.
Maybe there’s still one or two left in us… maybe there are more.
Let us have an overture then, a signifier of some beginning, beginning again, redoubling with a reprise, or an entr’acte. Somewhere a finale dangles in the future, somewhere another overture begins. May so often marks a beginning… and the month of May is a magical one indeed.
With all this talk of flowers, let’s add a little music into the mix for a relaxing Saturday night. Windflowers are aptly named and full of all expected charm. They dance in the slightest breeze, and positively go bonkers when the wind is strong. (Makes for a fun bit of macro-focusing, and part of the reason you don’t see any close-ups here – sorry Norma Desmond.) Anyway, here’s a mellow piece perfect for a Saturday night in spring, when blossoms are on the breeze and hope is in the air.
Once again, I almost missed World Naked Gardening Day, probably because it’s such an awkwardly-named and awkwardly-designated date. The first Saturday in May apparently rings in this non-holiday holiday, and I’m usually celebrating our anniversary in Boston when it falls, so I often miss out on it happening until it’s too late to drop anything. Maybe next year I’ll try to keep it in mind and pre-populate a post (God knows I needed some pre-programming this weekend).
Anyway, Happy World Naked Gardening Day! Despite the difficulty of the date, it has been celebrated here before, and more than once if you’ll take care to click and pay homage. It’s a little overcast at the moment of this writing, so I’m not taking a nude photo in the garden right now, but I’ll dig up some past images that give a glimpse of male nudity. ‘Tis the damn season. Stay safe if you’re going to honor this day the right way. Bits and baubles don’t like thorns or dirt.
It was around 1986 or 1987 when I stuffed five one-dollar bills into an enveloped and mailed them out with a request for a catalog to White Flower Farm. At the time, it was an exorbitant sum for a child to collect, but it was worth it because I had read that the White Flower Farm catalog was the standard against which all flower catalogs were judged. Way back then there was no internet, and I had to find any information on plants, and a burgeoning gardening obsession, in books and magazines and plant catalogs.
During those years, Amos Pettingill was the ‘writer’ behind the catalog, and their introduction to the catalog – and hat was new that year – was golden text for me. I pored over each and every word, finding daydreams and a hazy future hope in the invitation to cucumber sandwiches that Amos offered in every spring catalog.
White Flower Farm supplied many rare plants and species to all of the gardens I’ve cultivated. There is a Baptisia only a decade younger than myself at my parents’ former home that still blooms, and the Japanese umbrella pine that I purchased from them twenty years ago is about twelve feet tall now. This nursery and I go way, way back.
When I asked Missy how far she lived from Litchfield, we were both surprised at how close it was from Southbury, and she mentioned she had been wanting to visit there for a while, so we set up a floral weekend anchored by the short drive to the Farm. I knew it would never capture the palace I’d built it up to be in my head, and I went in with reasonable expectations.
We caught it at just the right time – all of the spring bulbs were in full, gorgeous bloom. The Narcissus spread out in every imaginable form, while the tulips and hyacinths were resplendent in every possible color combination. Taking in the layout of the land, I was transported back to my childhood – the trees and the gently-roling hill were familiar, as though I’d been here in a dream, when it was merely all in my imagination, and the tantalizing peek of landmarks from the photographs in the catalog.
At first it felt smaller than I’d imagined, but slowly, as we made our way through each garden and walkway, it opened up, revealing all the intricacies and myriad plant varieties that were on display and just beginning to appear in this late-starting season. The promise of another summer visit when things were further advanced put my mind at ease. For now, I simply enjoyed the magic of the moment, and the realization of reaching my own little Mecca after four decades.
Tomorrow marks Madonna’s Celebration Tour concert on the Copacabana Beach in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. It looks to be a spectacular event, which Madonna is putting on for free for forty years of fandom. She just completed all dates of the Celebration Tour, a feat in itself following her hospitalization last year, and proof that she is one of our most enduring performers, who has stayed at the top of her game for the last four decades.
While my wish-list for the Celebration Tour was way off (hey, it was a very personal wish list not what I actually thought she’d end up playing) she did hit all the right spots, as seen in the set-list below, which come with links to any and all Madonna Timeline entries that have been posted.
CELEBRATION TOUR SETLIST:
Whenever someone is vilified and raked across the coals for simply living their life in their early twenties (and making the foolish choices we all make) I tend to want to champion them. Austin Armacost was widely ridiculed for his stint on ‘The A-List’ but he’s gone to make a career from his reality television roots, and so he earns this Dazzler of the Day for surviving in a business hell-bent on striking survival from its resumes.
