The New Year, Hollywood Starlets, and My Imaginary Celebrity Life

So, it’s January—officially 2025. We’re all pretending our resolutions still matter, right? But yours truly, the self-proclaimed queen of procrastination, missed the grand "Happy New Year" journaling moment. Whatever, 2024 didn’t deserve a proper send-off anyway. Moving on.

Now, speaking of life’s priorities (and by that, I mean my YouTube recommendations), I stumbled upon The Hollywood Reporter’s Actress Roundtable and OH. MY. GOD. The lineup was like a buffet of brilliance and beauty I could never afford: Angelina Jolie (Maria), Demi Moore (The Substance), Mikey Madison (Anora), Tilda Swinton (The Room Next Door), Zendaya (Challengers and Dune: Part Two—because why have one blockbuster when you can have two?), and Zoe Saldaña (Emilia Pérez). Ugh, perfection.

Naturally, I watched this masterpiece like the A-list celebrity I am… in my head. Because let’s be real, I’m totally convinced that if I ever accidentally walked into the wrong Soho House lounge, they’d obviously save me a seat next to Zendaya and ask for my skincare routine. I sat there, practically mute, nodding along like I was about to chime in with, "You know, Angie, when I did my gritty indie film, I found the emotional depth of the character so liberating!"

And Tilda Swinton—oh, Tilda. Alien queen, avant-garde goddess, mother of eccentricity. Her mere existence makes me question why I’m not wearing a couture beekeeper’s veil while sipping matcha from a Fabergé egg. Demi Moore? Living proof that you can survive the 80s, 90s, and Bruce Willis and still glow like a YSL ad.

Zendaya, meanwhile, just sat there looking like she invented youth and ambition. “Challengers and Dune?” How does one juggle prestige drama with sci-fi epics without breaking a sweat? I can’t even juggle my Uber Eats orders without spiraling into chaos.

And don’t get me started on Zoe Saldaña. Miss Guardians of Every Franchise Ever, casually conquering intergalactic warfare and gender dynamics in one sitting. By the time Mikey Madison spoke, I was fully prepared to quit my imaginary celebrity career and become her PA.

So there I was, sitting on my couch, nodding along like a polite society debutante, trying to absorb every drop of their wisdom. Did I feel starstruck? Yes. Did I also feel like their seventh uninvited guest? Obviously. But hey, what’s new?

In conclusion: If there’s one thing I learned from this star-studded panel, it’s that I need to be reincarnated as someone with their level of talent and a better calendar because writing this on January 4? Messy. Then again, messy is on-brand for me. Happy New Year. 🎉

- FASHION DOOHICKEy

Le Bal des Débutantes 2024: Nepo Babies, Dream Dresses, and a Whole Lotta Couture

photo credits: vogue / Yunlin Fang

Ah, Le Bal des Débutantes 2024. The glitter, the gowns, the gobs of generational wealth—it’s like stepping into a fashion fairy tale where every character is either royalty, offspring of Hollywood royalty, or a combination of both. And let’s be honest, isn’t it just delightful to see these nepo babies strut their well-heeled selves in designer couture? It makes me want to rewind to my teenage years and make every gloriously wrong (and occasionally right) fashion choice all over again. Anyway, here’s my completely unsolicited, lovingly judgmental take on the crème de la crème of the evening:

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Apple Martin in Valentino

The daughter of Gwyneth Paltrow and Chris Martin (yes, Coldplay royalty), Apple Martin arrived in a powder-blue Valentino gown with a perfectly oversized black bow detail. This young starlet radiated grace while giving a subtle nod to her mother’s minimalist aesthetic. Accessories were kept understated—a diamond bracelet and sleek updo that whispered, “I was born into this.” She was, without a doubt, one of the evening’s best-dressed, proving that the Apple doesn’t fall far from the style tree.

photo credits: purepeople.com

Princesse Eugenia de Bourbon in Carolina Herrera

As a direct descendant of French royalty, Princesse Eugenia de Bourbon has high expectations to meet—and while her muted Carolina Herrera gown aligned with her classic style, it felt a bit too safe. The soft taupe tone complemented her porcelain complexion, but the design lacked the drama we’d hope for from someone with such a regal lineage. Can we petition her to try a jewel tone next time?

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Ella Yam in Giambattista Valli

The granddaughter of Hong Kong media mogul Peter Lam, Ella Yam floated into the room in a flamingo-pink Giambattista Valli confection. The layers of organza and tulle cascaded like a bougainvillea in full bloom. Was it a lion’s mane mushroom? A fantasy floral explosion? Whatever it was, it worked. The look screamed couture opulence, accessorized with a diamond tiara and a confidence that said, “Yes, I know I’m stunning.”

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Apollonie Halard in Schiaparelli

The Parisian socialite and daughter of architect Jacques Halard wore a vintage-inspired Schiaparelli gown that hit just the right notes. Its demure front contrasted with a subtly daring back detail, making it feel like a quiet rebellion against debutante traditions. Paired with pearl drop earrings and a relaxed chignon, Apollonie gave us “virginal in the front, Parisian nightlife in the back.” C’est parfait.

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Angel Zhang in Alexis Mabille

The daughter of Chinese billionaires, Angel Zhang, sadly missed the mark in her Alexis Mabille gown. While the soft lavender hue was divine, the overall silhouette felt more “political gala” than “debutante ball.” It’s a pity because the craftsmanship was impeccable—but perhaps better suited for another occasion. Here’s hoping for a stronger sartorial showing next year.

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Countess Alienor Loppin de Montmort in Emmanuel Ungaro

Wearing her grandmother’s Emmanuel Ungaro gown, Countess Alienor brought vintage charm to the ball. The emerald-green satin dress shimmered under the chandeliers, but its slightly outdated cut raised questions: Was it intentional nostalgia or an emergency heirloom moment? Either way, the Countess carried it with a grace that made it work.

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Isabel Quirot de Poligny in Stéphane Rolland

A descendant of French nobility, Isabel chose a Stéphane Rolland creation that left me scratching my head. The structured bodice and minimalist silhouette were striking, but the sheer overskirt veered dangerously close to TikTok-casual. Her vintage Cartier jewelry deserved a more polished counterpart. Can someone hand her a little more fabric next time?

Lucia Ponti in Giorgio Armani Privé

Lucia, the granddaughter of iconic film producer Carlo Ponti, walked a fine line between vintage charm and Sephora employee realness in her Armani Privé gown. The intricate lace tulle overlay was exquisite, but the inner satin lining felt underwhelming. However, paired with bold ruby earrings and old-Hollywood curls, she still managed to impress.

Rysa Panday in Elie Saab

The Bollywood heiress and daughter of Chunky Panday kept things simple with a pastel gown that was sweet but forgettable. While the soft chiffon draping and pearl detailing were lovely, there was nothing particularly groundbreaking here. Sometimes, subtle works—but not always.

Olivia Meijer in Luisa Beccaria

A descendant of Dutch shipping magnates, Olivia leaned into quiet luxury with a pale blush gown and understated jewelry. The whole look was very “cottagecore goes couture.” Demure, delicate, and entirely appropriate for the occasion, though a touch more sparkle wouldn’t have hurt.

Madelyn Netto in Georges Hobeika

The Singaporean heiress channeled 1960s suburban glam in her Georges Hobeika gown. The intricate button details and A-line silhouette had a retro charm, but the look felt a bit costume-y for the occasion. Still, her warm demeanor and effortless poise made up for it.

Mina Muniz Tschape in Jean Paul Gaultier

With a background as vibrant as her dress, Mina, the granddaughter of a Brazilian artist, stunned in Jean Paul Gaultier. The gown’s corseted bodice and dramatic train were a masterclass in couture craftsmanship. Paired with gold filigree earrings, the look was both artistic and ethereal.

Oona Finch in Chanel

The daughter of literary royalty, Oona embodied coastal chic in Chanel. The neutral tones and woven textures of her dress evoked a sun-drenched beach, complete with straw accessories. It was breezy and beautiful, a refreshing departure from the more traditional ballgowns.

Sophie Kodjoe in Oscar de la Renta

The daughter of Hollywood royalty Boris Kodjoe and Nicole Ari Parker, Sophie’s Oscar de la Renta gown left me puzzled. Was it modern art or a textile experiment gone wrong? Either way, her confidence almost made me forget my confusion.

Peyton Spaht in Dolce & Gabbana Alta Moda

The American heiress stole the show in a campy, baroque Dolce & Gabbana masterpiece. Her bold red lips and dramatic jewelry amplified the gown’s maximalist aesthetic. Was her hair naturally that auburn hue? Either way, it was the cherry on top.

Sienna Galliene in Christian Dior

Sienna’s Dior gown was the epitome of understated elegance. The intricate embroidery and delicate emerald necklace made her look like she’d stepped out of a fairytale. If the Wizard of Oz saw her, he’d want his emeralds back.

Sofia Yadigaroglu in Iris van Herpen

Sofia, the daughter of a Greek shipping magnate, brought futuristic glamour in Iris van Herpen. The subtle shimmer of the gown revealed its intricacy up close. Muted yet mesmerizing, it was a quietly beautiful choice.

Cornelia Manou in Celia Kritharioti

Cornelia’s Celia Kritharioti gown was youthful, fun, and free—everything a debutante should be. She looked radiant, and her choice of dress perfectly balanced modernity with tradition. A fitting finale to a night of nepo-baby couture.

This year’s Le Bal proved yet again that lineage may open the door, but couture rules the room. Some debutantes dazzled, others fell flat, but all reminded us why this event remains the ultimate playground for high-society fashion. Until next year—au revoir!

- FASHION DOOHICKEy

December: A Month of Drama, High Notes, and Excessive Sentimentality (Just Like Me)

Darlings, December has ARRIVED, and she didn’t even knock—she just busted down the door with glitter and a side of existential crisis. One moment I was sipping my overpriced PSL in a cashmere sweater that barely saw daylight, and the next, I’m staring at Christmas decorations like they’re mocking my poor financial choices. But we’re not here to talk about my November credit card bill. No, we’re here to talk about Wicked.

Yes, THE Wicked. The movie we’ve all waited for since Moses parted the Red Sea or, more accurately, since Ariana Grande announced her involvement and the gays collectively lost their minds. Ariana as Glinda? Cynthia Erivo as Elphaba? It’s like someone took all my queer little dreams, bedazzled them, and put them on an IMAX screen. I haven’t even seen the movie yet (calm down, I’m going in a few hours—front row, obviously), but let’s be real: I already know every lyric, every riff, every whispered “Unlimited…”

Now, I know what you’re thinking: FD, are you going to annoy everyone in the theater by singing every line? To that, I say, Yes. Yes, I am. If you can’t handle me belting “Defying Gravity” with the lung power of a pre-Mariah tea scandal, then maybe the theater isn’t for you. Go watch a Hallmark movie in peace (we’ll get to those later).

Speaking of Hallmark, can we talk about how December brings out the basic in all of us? One week from now, I’ll be sitting on my couch in a fuzzy blanket, sobbing into my fifth glass of mulled wine while some C-list actor discovers the true meaning of Christmas. That’s the magic of this month—it’s not about being glamorous; it’s about being emotionally unstable in style.

But back to Wicked. It’s already smashing box-office records, and it’s only been eight days. Eight. Days. Meanwhile, I can’t even smash my way through a week without procrastinating everything important. This movie deserves an Oscar, a Tony, and maybe even a Nobel Peace Prize for the cultural reset it’s about to deliver.

So, what’s my game plan for this December? Drama, darling. I’m kicking off the month with Wicked—big, bold, and emotionally over-the-top, just like me. I’ll let the nostalgia of it all wash over me, then spend the rest of the month wrapped in the warm embrace of mediocre Christmas movies and self-reflection (read: ordering too much takeout).

For now, enjoy this mood-setting bop, “The Wizard and I,” sung by Mary Kate Morrissey. If this song doesn’t make you feel like you could change the world—or at least make it through holiday shopping without crying—you’re doing December wrong.

Stay dramatic, stay fabulous, and don’t forget to belt your feelings. Because if you can’t be extra during the holidays, when can you?

XOXO,

Your Wickedly Nostalgic December Blogger

- FASHION DOOHICKEy

The Glow-Up is Real: A Love Letter to Lindsay Lohan

photo credits: people.com

Let’s talk about glow-ups, not just in terms of beauty but of life. And who better to embody this than the Lindsay Lohan? My obsession with Lindsay started way back when she was just a freckle-faced cutie in The Parent Trap. I mean, who else could play two roles so seamlessly at that age? I was hooked from the moment she appeared on screen—her charm, her talent, and her undeniable it-girl energy.

photo credit: variety.com

Then came her pop star era, and I was living. "Rumors" was my anthem (don’t lie, it was yours too!), and "Confessions of a Broken Heart (Daughter to Father)" hit like an emotional hurricane. Lindsay wasn’t just a star; she was the moment. She gave us bops, drama, and a look into her soul. She was a teenage icon, and I was a full-on stan.

But let’s be real, life wasn’t kind to Lindsay—or maybe it was the industry, fame, or the unrelenting spotlight. It broke my heart to watch her struggle publicly. The headlines, the courtrooms, the mugshots—it was like watching a bright star dim before your eyes. But through it all, I remained a fan. Because if there’s one thing I believe in, it’s rooting for your faves, especially when the world isn’t.

photo credits: preview.ph

Fast forward to 2024, and guess what? The glow-up is real, babes. Photos of Lindsay have been surfacing, and wow, the transformation is jaw-dropping. She looks radiant, healthy, and truly at peace. Compared to the tumultuous images from a decade ago, it’s like night and day. The glow on her face isn’t just makeup or good lighting; it’s happiness.

photo credits: popmama.com

And here’s the plot twist that makes me emotional: Lindsay Lohan is now a mom. A MOM! Knowing she’s in a happy place, raising a child, and living her best life fills my heart with so much joy. She’s gone from being the Hollywood wild child to a beautiful symbol of resilience.

photo credits: mirror.uk

Lindsay’s journey is a reminder that life is a marathon, not a sprint. It’s okay to fall, as long as you rise again. And honey, she didn’t just rise—she soared. So here’s to Lindsay, to glow-ups, and to second chances. Because if Lindsay can reclaim her light, so can we all.

Lindsay, if you’re reading this (a fan can dream, right?), just know: I’ve been rooting for you since day one, and I always will. Keep shining, queen. ✨

- FASHION DOOHICKEy

Quiet Luxury: Because We Can All Pretend We’re Rich (But, You Know, Subtly)

Ah, quiet luxury. The trend that whispers, “I’m rich, but I’m not about to yell it.” How classy. How sophisticated. How…unattainable for most of us mere mortals slogging through life at 30 without a trust fund or a yacht to cry on.

For those who don’t know (or who have been too busy adulting and surviving to keep up with Vogue), quiet luxury is all about understated elegance. Think cashmere sweaters so fine they dissolve in water, plain white t-shirts that cost as much as your rent, and beige everything. Oh, the beige. It’s like the color palette of wealth is a rebellion against all our vibrant broke-people energy.

PHOTO CREDITS: CAMBRIA

Now, let’s pause and address the elephant in the room: this trend wasn’t made for people like us. I mean, how does a member of the middle class—or, dare I say, the low-income club—pull off “quiet luxury”? Should we just…not talk about our overdraft fees? Should we whisper while showing off our thrifted Zara blazer that kinda looks like Loro Piana from afar? Maybe if we squint?

But here’s the real kicker: quiet luxury screams judgment. It’s the rich person’s way of saying, “Loud logos are for people trying too hard.” You know, like us common folk who splurge on a Gucci belt as a flex. But hey, sorry we’re not rich enough to look poor! My apologies for thinking a little branding might help signal to the world that I’ve “made it” (or at least that I know how to max out a credit card).

PHOTO CREDITS: IN STYLE/GETTY

And let’s talk about the practicality of it all. Imagine wearing a perfectly tailored, cream cashmere suit to your 9-to-5. Except, instead of being a tech CEO, you’re working retail, and you know, there’s a 99.9% chance someone spills coffee on you. Quiet luxury doesn’t do “spills.” It doesn’t do “hard-working 30-year-olds who’ve been at it since their teens and deserve a break.” It does soft lighting, wine tastings, and passive income.

But here’s the thing: we can still embrace our version of quiet luxury. Oh, yes. Quiet luxury on a budget looks like a clean pair of white sneakers (from last year, but we scrubbed them with baking soda). It’s the perfectly curated thrift store haul that makes us look like we could maybe afford brunch with people who say things like, “Let’s summer in Capri.” It’s pretending we’re rich enough to keep things simple when, in reality, simplicity is all we can afford.

PHOTO CREDITS: MENSFLAIR.COM

So, to my fellow 30-somethings who still haven’t gotten their lives together: let’s redefine this trend. Quiet luxury isn’t about being rich; it’s about looking like you’ve got your act together when you don’t. Because, at the end of the day, nothing screams “luxury” louder than someone who knows how to fake it ‘til they make it.

Now, excuse me while I sip this instant coffee out of a thrifted mug and scroll through Net-a-Porter, adding $3,000 sweaters to my cart…just for the thrill of it. Cheers to looking expensive on a budget, darlings!

PHOTO CREDITS: Salvatore Ferragamo

- FASHION DOOHICKEy