Manolo says, here is the best from the Manolosphere in the previous week.

Glinda…

There’s an entire segment of parents who will not be happy with what I’m going to write next.

Spirit Fingers…

I’m incredibly concerned about celebrity stylist extraordinaire Rachel Zoe.

Mr. Henry…

What advice would you give to people who are looking to be happy? “For starters, learn how to cook.”

Twistie…

Yes, at long last we have a show dedicated to informing brides to be that their lives will be ruined if they don’t lose those extra five or ten pounds before they march down the aisle in their cookie-cutter-inspired strapless gowns.

Plumcake…

Oh I’m just so excited I could spit.

Never teh Bride…

This reminds me of those neon ice balls you could buy in 80s-era supermarkets so that your drink wouldn’t get watered down by your cooling mechanism.

Isidore Gallant…

Has Brad Pitt ever looked worse?

Raincoaster…

Stop me if you’ve heard this one. Actually, you might have: six million people have.

Manolo says, ayyyyyy! Yesterday evening, the entire Manolosphere came down crashing!

However after many hours, and much heartbreak, the technical peoples were able to restore the various blogs of the Manolo to the internets.

Sadly, you will notice that the postings at this blog from Sunday and Monday are now missing, as are your comments on those posts. Many apologies for this, but the pontifex maximus of the technicians has assured the Manolo that only the sacrifice of these things will appease the capricious gods of the internet.

Manolo says, here is the best of the week from the Manolosphere.

Twistie…

Some of us aren’t religious, but still feel that a wedding where a woman is pledging her life, her heart, and her devotion to one person for the rest of her life isn’t necessarily the place to wear almost nothing above the nipple line.

Mr. Henry…

Although he has spent most of his good thinking hours trying to penetrate the minds of women, Mr. Henry has come to believe the task beyond the feeble abilities of man.

Never teh Bride…

After reading that, I was sorely tempted to rip out all my counters and cabinetry so I could start fresh with all manner of wonderful tables and cabinets.

Plumcake…

KNEE SOCKS! I almost died. In fact, since I live in Texas I “liketa” died.

Spirit Fingers…

If she gets bored of making movies, perhaps she can turn her attention into being a turbocharged investment guru with her own tv show.

Francesca…

Francesca imagined herself only slightly more lean and fit for doing more exercise and laying off the cookies – and with happy, happy insulin!

Raincoaster…

Now, we’re all for a healthy amount of recycling, redecorating, and re-purposing, and well aware of the (slightly muffled) ticking environmental time bomb that is disposable diapers.

Glinda…

About seven months ago, the Munchkin was in an extremely all-encompassing pirate phase. Everything had to be pirate, from his toys, to his movies, to his clothes.

Izzy Gallant…

It looks strangely familiar, and not in a good way.

Manolo says, here is the Manolosphere’s best of the week.

Mr. Henry…

In this Orwellian world, orderliness itself has become a luxury – not the “law and order” kind, mind you, in which law is bent to better impose order. No, Mr. Henry is speaking of the luxurious order of solitude at breakfast, a companion at lunch, and a family at dinner. Mr. Henry would like to place his order for more of this kind, if you please, and pronto.

Plumcake…

Doesn’t she look absolutely beastly? I mean, it’s amazing she can even get out of bed. She probably has to wash herself with a dead cat on a stick and when she dies they’ll just have to cut the house away from around her and remove her bloated, Winnebago-sized corpse with that helicopter they use for sea mammal transportation.

Isidore Gallant

Never one do things by halves, every visible item Izzy wore, except for his socks, was corduroy: a brown medium-wale sportcoat, an indigo pin-wale shirt, blue and green medium-wale Converse All-Stars, and outrageously pink medium-wale trousers

Twistie…

While their children have struggled with romantic relationships, Phil and Jill remain constant and devoted. Not only that, they’re still played by the original actors.

Raincoaster…

Maaaan, he probably thinks she should walk home after swimming, too. Faint hope he gave her bus fare, eh?

Glinda…

And finally, the hunky Renaissance Man who will steal Barbie away from Ken forever with his studly duds and beautiful music.

Spirit Fingers…

Can’t…breathe…must…decide! Death or Travolta’s tongue?

Never teh Bride…

Anyhow, I don’t think I’d have the constitution necessary to survive a lingerie shower without dying from embarrassment.

Francesca…

Yeah, right, Geri. I have news for you: Even people with fast metabolisms and “skinny genes,” who stay thin with no effort, do not get toned with no effort. You are totally doing 1,000 crunches a day.

Manolo says, here is the best of the week from the Manolosphere.

Isidore Gallant…

It is true that, for both men and women, the more functional the piece of clothing, the less formal it is.

Miss Plumcake…

I cannot give you a reason these things even exist (although I have my suspicions involving Buzz Aldrin, an open-minded cobbler and a quiet evening in the Pucci atelier licking toads)

Francesca…

When the shoulders or the boobs are large, we must always remember to include some pizazz somewhere to balance our features.

Raincoaster…

We at TeenyManolo have been alerted to not a few global crises involving children, everything from substance-addled celebutards playing Drop the Baby to lead-lined lunchbaskets, and our heartstrings have not failed to have been plucked. Why, some days, I can hardly post for my plucking heartstrings.

Glinda…

You know, because moms don’t get to see enough pouting, angry kids at home. Let’s make her look at them while shopping, too!

Spirit Fingers…

What ungodly power does Kid Rock possess that allows him to ensorcel women like Cindy Crawford into caressing his nostril hairs with her lips?

Never teh Bride…

That, I suppose, is why I immediately thought about how much I loathe Christmas muzak as soon as I cast eyes on it.

Twistie…

My friends, I’m here to let you in on a secret: if you can cut a straight line and apply glue, you can make your own simple veil for peanuts.

Manolo says, here is the best of the week from the Manolosphere.

Spirit Fingers…

Joan Collins gave us quite the scare recently when she showed up at the Angel Ball, clinging onto her fur stole for dear life while everyone else was content to pose with bare shoulders and cleavage.

Plumcake…

Ah the formal wedding. Those magical evenings when you get to trade your personal sanity, comfort and an expensive share in a 6 quart Kitchenaid Artisan Pro mixer for four hours of clumsy small talk, a feeble breast grope by an inappropriate member of the groom’s family (bonus points if he was born before the New Deal or has to carry an oxygen tank) and all the hangover-inducing champagne you can drink.

Francesca…

The next time someone suggests women are, or become fat, to hide emotional problems, you can stick this article in their faces.

Raincoaster…

Fairies, particularly, are in desperate need of a PR boost right about now, and here comes Disney to the rescue.

Glinda…

Legally procure someone else’s child. A young child is good, but it can be of almost any age.

Isidore Gallant…

Come to think of it, Izzy hopes someday to see the bumper sticker “If this casbah’s a-rockin’, don’t come a-knockin’.”

Mr. Henry…

Doesn’t Mr. Henry KNOW that chocolate ice cream always disappoints? After years of disappointment, he no longer grouses about the lingering aftertaste of Hershey’s syrup lurking in every common brand.

Twistie…

Helga couldn’t quite understand why every party she’d attended that night ended abruptly after she burst into song…..

Never teh Bride…

I’d recommend shying away from dirty or profane songs, of course. And unless you’re having a kooky Halloween wedding, it’s probably best to steer clear of anything particular dark or unpleasant sounding.

Manolo says, here is the best of the week from the Manolosphere.

Never teh Bride…

Today is my birthday, and this is how I feel inside…

Mr. Henry…

Mr. Henry finds endless fascination in the functioning idiot, the overachiever, the C-student billionaire, the clueless success story. (Is not President Bush the shining example of this quintessential American dream, namely, that ANYBODY can get ahead here in the land of opportunity?) Such stories give him more than hope; they form the backbone of his long-term financial plans.

Izzy Gallant…

Izzy thinks that Lagerfeld needs a hug.

Plumcake…

I mean, whatever happened to good old-fashioned WASP repression? It’s what’s made this country great. My family hasn’t shown a single human emotion since 1783 and look how I turned out.

Francesca…

Perhaps you are answering “Of course it is. It is the natural color which God gave me in His wisdom.” To which Francesca replies: Yes, and perhaps the Good Lord wishes you to Work With Him to perfect your hair.

Twistie…

All too often, we are taught to treat food as an enemy to be conquored, but in reality it’s a friend to be respected and treated well.

Raincoaster…

Now, I’m just sayin’ … it’s a strange coincidence, perhaps nothing more than a strange coincidence, but that article came out on a Friday morning, and by the following Monday no fewer than like, half the celebrities in the world gave birth.

Glinda…

I keep reminding myself, photo-shoot, things are allowed to be, uh, different. She’s depressed about her grades or something, that’s all!

Spirit Fingers…

If it’s serious about being the next superpower China should be conquering other world famous landmarks: Shaolin monks doing flying kicks and shooting energy balls from the Statue of Liberty,drag rickshaw racing over the Sydney Harbour Bridge, mahjong tournaments on the top deck of the Eiffel Tower…

Manolo says, here is some of the week’s best writing from the Manolosphere

Never teh Bride…

I hate sock monkeys. I hate them with a burning passion.

Mr. Henry…

It all starts, as things do, with one small misstep, a minor oversight that unwinds balefully into tragic chorus.

Twistie…

I’m still amazed at the expectation that stress and misery are the primary emotions involved in wedding planning.

Francesca…

Francesca always tries to make sure that she has more than one white blouse in her closet.

Glinda the Good…

Somehow it reminds me of a bed that the Dowager Duchess of Cornwall should be climbing into at night, demanding querulously that her servant place a warming brick at her feet, rather than a three year old.

Spirit Fingers…

Everytime Michelle Rodriguez hits the clubs and springs headlong into a vodka haze, she faces that age old dilemma of deciding between her two most trusted counsellors.

Isidore Gallant…

If plagiarism is a fashion crime, then the fashion detectives has better investigate this suspicious case.

Raincoaster…

Then there’s the Donald Trump, although why in the name of all that is holy you’d want your precious treasure to resemble that cotton-candy monstrosity of a comb-over I cannot imagine.

Plumcake…

Let’s face it, it’s hard to dispel the “all big girls are desperate” myth when confronted with seventy three plus-size stewardesses inviting you to “fly the friendly thighs” in the span of a night

Manolo says, here is the best of the week from the Manolosphere.

Francesca…

When Francesca wishes to exercise, she prefers playing sports, or doing aerobics in the comfort of her own living room, or carrying home Chinese takeout or heavy bags of groceries which contain, among the fruits and veggies, only one box of Entenmann’s cupcakes. So you see, to each her own!

Izzy Gallant…

Bow, mortal, to Nipplelopochtli, Aztec god of pectorals and, uh, acid-washed jeans.

Never teh Bride…

I’ve never hidden the fact that I’m fairly anti-matchymatchy when it comes to bridesmaid frocks. I also go gaga over mismatched dinnerware and cleverly messy outfits that look hastily thrown on but probably took hours to compile. There is just something about controlled chaos that I love.

Twistie…

A great deal has been written about the duties and obligations of members of the bridal party. Less, however, seems to have been written about handling them so they are still your friends once the birdseed and rose petals have been swept up and life returns to normal.

Mr. Henry…

When Mrs. Henry decided on a whim to hop a flight to San Diego, the Henry household was left to its own devices, that is, with Mr. Henry firmly, if temporarily, in command.

Glinda…

But the valuable advice I got from that movie will stay with me forever as a parent. Trust me, I am always going to walk into the room instead of hovering at the doorway. Mark my words.

Spirit Fingers…

And when I heard that rumour about Karl Urban being cast as the main bad guy in Star Trek VI, I thought to myself, surely they’ve got their Urbans mixed up.

Raincoaster…

This jacket is made entirely from strips of velcro, and as you can see from the image, has practical as well as faintly pathetic applications.

Plumcake…

Two Thursdays ago found me on my knees with my head in the oven.

Manolo says, here is the best of the week from the Manolosphere.

Glinda…

Posh, tell me your secrets! I will be your disciple, I promise!

Never teh Bride…

As nuptial traditions go, that’s one of the sweeter ones I’ve heard of. More interesting than the unity candle by far!

Twistie…

It’s said that one picture is as good as a thousand words, but every once in a while a picture comes along that just begs for a good caption.

Izzy Gallant…

While a low lapel can make you look like a maître d’ or Bill Clinton in his first term as president, a high lapel can fool people into thinking you’re a member of the aristocracy.

Plumcake…

First of all, the idea of $200 denim makes my slapping hand itch just on principle. Any pair of jeans with that sort of price tag had better be made out of the swaddling clothes of baby angels and come with a small but powerful electronic device, and y’all know I don’t mean an iPod.

Francesca…

What Francesca wants you to try next is the Princess seams, which can do wonders to give Apples a little bit of an hourglass shape and a waist.

Raincoaster…

What not to wear when you’re pregnant? What the lovely and apparently very fertile Cindy Margolis is wearing right here:

Mr. Henry…

Although earthy with a touch of ruggedness, Mr. Henry cannot claim to be a farmer. He does not really understand grasses, earthworms, pests, crop rotations, maturation cycles, or harvest schedules. Although an avid meat-eater, he does not possess the requisite sangue-froid to personally participate in slaughter, either.

Spirit Fingers…

Oh Bai, so uninhibited but yet so naive at the same time. This is Angelina Jolie we’re talking about here. She’s like that with everyone.

Manolo says, here is the best of the week from the Manolosphere.

Mr. Henry…

Mr. Henry, in fact, spends a good part of each episode examining Padma’s hypnotic physique and the clothing with which she drapes it. How can she be so thin and still have curves? Has she been surgically redesigned into a foodie fem-bot?

Glinda…

Yes, yes, I know his jacket looks a bit like the Members Only one that my grandfather still wears. But, no hatin’ on my boy Ernie!

Spirit Fingers…

Her paternally-lauded double Ds may have also suffered losses but there will inevitably be incidental casualties with any war.

Raincoaster…

When a child competes against adults, it can sometimes be a bruising experience, but much more often in my experience it’s a growth experience and kids, we learn daily, are much more resilient than adults are.

Plumcake…

love that while she may be twice the size of most of her female colleagues she looks like she’s having twice the fun, too.

Twistie…

As I said yesterday, I’ve spent an entire week watching every wedding-related reality show I could pick up on my cable package.

Isidore Gallant…

Isidore the Mauve, would fantasize about having bigger shoulders, so that he could carry around an actual peacock on them.

Francesca…

Indeed this was an unexpected and pleasant surprise.

Never teh Bride…

I think that I shall have to find myself a gorgeous and eye-catching hat to wear at the next wedding…

Manolo says, here is the best of the week from the Manolosphere.

Plumcake…

While this doesn’t mean I have folded my campaign to systematically kick all hippies in the head with my pointy pointy shoes, I’ll give the granola grazers kudos on this one.

Francesca…

Francesca submits that, had Britney been dancing her tushy off, had she acted like she was sincerely excited to be at the VMA and having fun, had she come prepared and put in the sort of effort and sweat that made her famous, fans would have been pleased no matter what her tummy looks like now.

Twistie…

There are a couple reasons I won’t be calling on Tim and Veronica myself, not the least of which is the fact that nobody but NOBODY is ever going through my underwear drawer but me.

Raincoaster…

Note: Stefani loses points because despite a solid effort, she, in fact and in actuality, failed to drop the baby.

Glinda…

I can see it now, “Boys and girls, it’s Natasha’s birthday, so her mom brought us all brussels sprouts and cabbage!” Can you hear the shouts of joy?

Spirit Fingers…

Gimme More wigs and some glue, I’ll just paste them on top of this one and hope my head doesn’t topple off from the weight of them all.

Mr. Henry…

And yet, Mr. Henry remains less than completely satisfied. He longs to integrate all his pleasures. He offers up a late summer prayer to be granted perfection in multi-slacking.

Izzy…

Obviously only for the brave, the garment is best attempted by big, burly men.

Never teh Bride…

I spent the whole of the ceremony fighting gravity and praying that I would not topple over into a ravine.