Wonderful Women: C Is For Comely

Let’s start with Christina Applegate:

…all growed up from her Kelly Bundy years:

And of course there’s the other  Christina, still driving men mad:

Now let’s go across The Pond, for Claire Forlani:

…and still Over There, we have Claire Goose, who could waken anyone from the dead:

(photographer: Graham Steans)

And dipping over into La Bella Italia, we have una bella Italiana, Claudia Cardinale:


Till next week….


Apparently, Nigella Lawson is a “mess magnet”, and her house is filled with stuff because she suffers from “shortage dread”.

As do I.

I draw the line at dozens of empty mustard jars, although New Wife has stashed a few such empty jam jars packed away.  (Curiously, a few actually came in quite handy over Christmas, as we filled them with Reese’s Pieces and M&Ms and gave them to the kids as stocking stuffers.)

I have no problem hoarding things like foodstuffs, but empty toilet roll cylinders and the like need to be turfed out, toot sweet.  I think I’ll offer my ahem  services to Nigella, as long as she has a few bowls of pasta first.  Here’s a before/after comparison:


Wonderful Women: B Is For Bodacious

Let’s begin with our most recognizable B-Girl, Betty Brosmer:

Now for a quick cool-down, Barbara Stanwyck:

Some cool-down.  Anyway, if we’re going to go that route, then Brigitte Bardot:

(Photo by Cattani/Getty Images)

Okay, that’s enough of Mlle. Bardot.  Time for someone else, someone more modern, more demure.  Someone like Barbara Mori:


(Photo by Paul Hawthorne/Getty Images)

Like I said, more demure.  Moving on, we have the owner of the sexiest eyes ever to appear on screen, former Bond Girl Barbara Bouchet:

The rest of her was quite toothsome, too:


And in a nod to last week’s pic of Anita Ekberg:

That’s enough of the Killer Bs.  Till next week…

Wonderful Women: A Is For Apple

Let’s kick this thing off with Ava Gardner, shall we?

Item #2:  Ziegfeld Girl Anna Buckley

Getting a little more up to date, from Varsity Blues, Amy Smart:

…and her rival in the movie, Ali Larter:

Next up, the Amazonian Amanda Righetti:

…followed by Love Story‘s Ali McGraw:

And finally, Anita Ekberg:

Till next week…

Clearing Out

At this time of year, James Lileks always talks about purging his hard drive of pics he’s accumulated as he puts together his wonderful screeds.  So if it’s good enough for Lileks, it’s good enough for me (although to be honest, the kind of pics I save are not the kind he saves).

Here’s 60s-era Italian actress Stefania Sandrelli, for example:

Then there’s the 80s-era Italian actress Serena Grandi:

And still on Italian actresses, how about the eternal  Italian actress:

And forgetting about actresses altogether, we have a Vespa model:

But let’s not get stuck on the Italians.  Moving on, we have a classical sea nymph of no known origin:

And speaking of antiquities, there’s always Jane Russell:

Moving into the modern era, there’s the elfin Jenna-Louise Coleman:

Still with the Brits, there’s Harvey Weinstein’s ummmm protogée victim, the exquisite Lysette Anthony:

There’s also one of my perennial favorites, Christine McGuinness:

…as well as soap star hottie Helen Flanagan:

And I have no idea why I saved these pics:

Okay, on medical advice, I have to stop now — and in any event, I think I’ve gone far enough.

Maybe more, next week.

Racing Beauty

As all know, I am a huge fan of the Ferrari Dino 246 GT, but I love its successors with almost equal fervor.  Here’s a little discourse about the 288 GTO by Alain de Cadenet, who waxes rhapsodical about this magnificent beast, the last Ferrari made when old man Enzo was still alive.  Enjoy.  (Right-click to embiggen the pic in another window.)

It was a 1980s car, which meant it was more wedge-shaped and less curvy than the 246 GT from which it was derived (right-click away):

But the 288 was racier — duh, it was created for Group B racing — and a better car to drive than the entry-level Dino, I think.  (I’ve driven the Dino quite a bit, the 288 only once for a disappointingly-few minutes.)

But both cars thrill — that engine being mounted only a foot or so behind the driver… oooh, Mommy.

Want.  Either, or both.  Where’s that lottery ticket, again?